


A World Not Fit To Live In

by LissaDream, Snowblind12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Female-Centric, Forced Exhibitionism, Forced Marriage, Forced Servitude, Multi, Non-Consensual Spanking, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex, Spanking, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 136,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaDream/pseuds/LissaDream, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowblind12/pseuds/Snowblind12
Summary: The world Hermione feared has come to be. The order has fallen, Harry Potter is dead. The Dark Lord has gifted her to the Malfoy wizards as a spoil of war. Her nightmare has just begun. WARNING: dark, non-con HG/LM, HG/DM





	1. A New World

_**The amazingly talented LissaDream is co-authoring this with me. She and I connected through FF and have become close friends. We were bouncing around story ideas and came up with this as well as the story Master Mine. So, we are co-writing them.  Please be sure to check out Master Mine if you haven't already. You won't be disappointed!** _

Ok, so another Trio story involving the Malfoy men and Hermione. I know there are tons of them, but we like this trio. We also like the Malfoy men Dark for some sick reason. We like their evil streak. But, we also like the stories where they are redeemed. This will be very dark, at least to start. It is a war story. There will be descriptive rape and violence. There will be shock factors. It will be brutal -- but there IS a plot. There is a point to this story. It's not just mindless torture. We're developing characters, back story, relationships. As of about chapter twenty, you'll find the violence taking a backseat to the plot. Not that there won't be ANY violence after chapter twenty, but it won't be as integral to the plot as it was in the first half of the story. If you can make it that far, you'll be fine.

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Interact with us:  
FACEBOOK:  
**Joint** : <https://www.facebook.com/lissa.snow.77>  
**Lissa’s** : <https://www.facebook.com/lissadean.27>  
**Snow’s** : <https://www.facebook.com/anne.snow.92775>

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 **Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize, we do not own and are not making any money off it. We write for fun.

**Warning:**

**1\. Character Pairing:** If you don't like a triad pairing, a HG/LM or HG/DM match up then you won't like this story.

 **2\. Age Difference of Character Pairing** (HG/LM).

 **3.** **Non** **-Con/Heavy M rating – if I could rate this NC-17, I would:** **This is what I would consider literotica. It has extremely controversial issues such as non-consensual sex/rape, extreme violence/torture, war-time crimes, possible character deaths, heavy lemons (smut), and the list goes on. Rape is a personal journey for each victim. No two rape victims are alike. You will see continuous rape over a long period of time in this story, a magical slave bonding, a touch of Stockholm Syndrome, and more.**

 **Adult Tags:** 3Plus, Abuse, Angst, Bi(?), Bondage, Controversial, Dom, DP (?), D/s, Fetish (?), Fingering, Hurt/Comfort, Hand Job (?), Humiliation, Mind Control, M/F, M/M(?), F/F (?), Oral sex, Spanking, Toys (?), Masturbation, sexual intercourse, rape, torture, beating, anal intercourse, rimming, BDSM, extreme emotional situations, and more we may not have thought of yet.

 ** _Read at your own risk._**  LissaDream and I are a bit twisted. We have "funny" triggers for turn-ons. The smut might not be to your liking at all. If you don't like it -  just walk away. **We realize this story isn't for everyone.**

Thanks for kudos, subscribing, bookmarking, and of course, commenting!!

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**Chapter One**

Hermione shuddered with fear and disgust as the menacing grip squeezed her upper arm, forcing her to stand. "Stand up and move, little Princess."

She turned and looked up into the leering, amber colored eyes of Fenrir Greyback. Her legs were weak with disuse, her bladder full to bursting, and her stomach empty. The strong werewolf shoved her forward, towards the dungeon door, unconcerned with her plights. Waving his wand, the heavy door opened with a loud and screeching creak. Hermione cringed at the sound on her sensitized ears, it was akin to nails on a chalkboard. After so much time in silence, it was deafening and overwhelming. He pulled her through the door and into a long, dark hall dimly lit by small sconces that were scattered down the walls and popped and cracked faintly. More muted was the sound of dripping water in the distance, the air smelled moldy and damp.

"Where are you taking me?" Her voice didn't sound like her own. It was meek and desperate, husky with disuse, and trembled slightly.

"Never mind you that, little Princess. Best you don't concern yourself with what you have no control over." Suddenly, she was shoved into a small, lighted room. "Be quick, you're expected."

Hermione rubbed her arms and looked around the small room...if you could call it that. The walls looked like planks of wood, scarcely attached. She could see through the large cracks between the planks into the hall she had just come from. Her eyes scanned the dank space, spotting a toilet and a sink. Unable to resist, she stepped to the filthy toilet and slid her jeans down. As she squatted over the bowl, her eyes were met by those of a large rat staring back at her as it perched on its hind legs in the corner. Too exhausted and numb to react, she relaxed her muscles and let the relief of her bladder emptying wash over her. Her eyes darted around the space and, seeing no toilet paper, her attention was drawn back to the rat who was watching her as it chewed and gnawed on what remained of what had been a roll of toilet paper. _Of course,_ she thought bitterly.

"Hurry up, Princess. No need to try to look pretty," the werewolf whispered and then chuckled. The sound of his laugh made her feel dirty.

After letting herself drip dry as long as she could, she stood and pulled up her jeans, zipping them as she considered the sink next to her. It had cobwebs in the basin and mirrored the filth of the rest of the room. She attempted, unsuccessfully, to turn the knob. It had rusted closed...probably long ago.

Closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath, she opened the door. Fenrir was waiting impatiently and grabbed her arm with the same force and brutality as earlier. "Come on, we're late."

He dragged her up a flight of stairs into a small room with no furnishings. There was a wall with small hooks where large keys hung as well as some chains and shackles.

The gruff wizard yanked her again, forcing her into another hallway and through another door which led to a larger, grand hallway. This hallway was decorated with wall coverings, tapestries, and portraits. The sconces were silver and seemed to move. Upon closer inspection, they were modeled after snakes and clearly charmed to move along the walls. She shivered with revulsion.

She was led into a large foyer with a huge, crystal chandelier. There were ornate and obviously antique rugs throughout the room that covered the dark, hardwood floors. Hermione gazed up, noting the picture railing molding along the walls, close to the ceiling. More portraits were hung about the room, their occupants watching her, some with disgust, but more with what appeared to be trepidation. She wondered who these portraits were. It was an intimidating room and was probably designed to be just that. A large set of double doors to her right opened. Hermione whirled, hand to her heart, to find herself looking into the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. A sneer on his face as he scanned her form up and down. His eyes then skimmed the various portraits around the room before he said with his condescending drawl. "Come on, Granger, time to pay the piper."

Hermione hesitated only briefly before following Draco into a large sitting room. "Ah, Lucius. Your little prize is here." Hermione looked from the serpentine face of Voldemort to the arrogant gaze of Lucius Malfoy and back to Voldemort once again. Abhorrence continued to build in her and she grasped at it, it was so much better than the overwhelming fear that was trying to suffocate her.

Voldemort kept his steady gaze on Hermione, his red eyes glittering with…bloody hell, humor? "Tell me, Mudblood, are you finally willing to accept your fate? Have the past six weeks of captivity weakened your resolve?"

Six weeks. Is that how long it had been? Hermione had lost track. She had been moved from cell to cell and to different dungeons in what seemed liked many Manors. Always in the dark. Always in silence. This was the first time she had been out of a cell and not blindfolded since her capture.

"Just kill me, already. Why are you putting it off? You know I will _never_ do what you ask. _Not ever_."

Voldemort smiled gleefully. His humor unnerved her deeply. "You see, Lucius? She still chooses death over cooperation. Such resolve, such mental strength."

Voldemort stood and walked towards her. "Kneel, girl." He demanded as he approached.

"No." Hermione spat. "Kill me. I know you're going to eventually, just get it done with."

With no warning, horrifying agony filled her body and she collapsed to the floor because of it, twisting unnaturally as screams were ripped unwillingly from her body and tears pulled without permission from her eyes. It was over in seconds that felt like hours and she was left panting with the pain. She forced herself to her feet as quickly as possible to regain some dignity, defiance clearly emanating from her eyes. She glared at the snake-faced man before her eyes flitted around taking in the surprised and wary looks of the two Malfoy men.

Voldemort looked at her with a tinge of respect before answering her. "Kill you! Oh, you silly little Mudblood." He shook his head and smiled at her. "I have big plans for you. I have big plans for England! And you, my dear Mudblood, will play a large role." He nonchalantly flicked his wand, forcing her to fall to her knees.

"No. I told you! I will die before I help you." She winced with pain as her knees landed on the hard floor.

Voldemort turned away from her and walked back to his chair. "You will do as I say, Miss Granger. Lucius, and dare I say Draco, as well, will help you understand." The ugly megalomaniac looked from Lucius to Draco and then back at Hermione, an evil smile on his lipless face.

"It's that or you can be a house whore to the boys of Slytherin at Hogwarts." He leaned towards her. "Would you prefer that, Miss Granger? Hmm? Having boy after boy fucking you, rutting you day in and day out?" He leaned back. "I mean, I'm merciful, am I not? I'm giving you a choice."

Voldemort smiled viciously at her as a tremor of fear violently wracked her body. "Lucius has been lonely since the death of our dear, dear Narcissa…and Draco needs a toy. You will keep them happy, and if you cooperate, great things could be in your future. A respectable marriage perhaps?" Voldemort glanced up at Lucius. "A Malfoy marriage? Maybe? You could be the mother of future Malfoy sons, Miss Granger."

He said it as if it should be a reward for her, but her stomach contracted violently at the thought. It was apparent that she wasn't the only one who felt this way. Lucius could not contain the look of shock and utter disgust on his face, and Draco looked as if something smelled bad. The look Voldemort shot the elder Malfoy was withering and Lucius quickly regained his composure and nodded in subservience. "If it would please my Lord."

This haughty man's easy acquiescence to his master, knowing he found the idea revolting, ruffled her deeply. She was unable to contain herself, even knowing there would be more pain. "No!" She screamed. "You're a vile, disgusting, pathetic piece of a shite, Tom Riddle. I'll never..." Her words were cut off with a gurgle as she collapsed under the Cruciatus Curse once again. Expecting it this time, she was able to contain her screams.

"You bore me child." He snapped after he lifted the curse, then towards the blond wizard to his left. "Take her, Lucius. She is yours."

Hermione was unable to quench the sob that bubbled in her chest as strong hands once again forced her against her will. She just wanted them to kill her, she wanted it to be over. "Come on, Granger. Let's go." Hermione looked up into the tired eyes of Draco Malfoy. He met her gaze, registering the hatred infused in them. He whispered, his sneer still present and accounted for. "Yeah, yeah, you hate me. I know. Come on."

No will to fight anymore, tears streamed down her cheeks as she was dragged out of the room, clenching her teeth as the residual curse pain hummed through her body.

"Draco, now!" The unmistakable voice of Lucius was pointing into another room. The voice whispered, urgently. "Quickly, before he changes his mind again."

Draco walked briskly, dragging her to where Lucius led them. She felt them both step close on either side of her and the sudden pull of side along apparition almost made her throw up. The supporting hands gripping each of her elbows were the only reason she didn't fall to her knees.

"Tinny!" Lucius said loudly. The house elf entered with a _crack_.

"Master calls for Tinny?" The small, young, female house elf looked at Lucius reverently, expectantly.

"Take Miss Granger to her prepared suite. Bathe her, stay with her. Do not leave her side. Clean her yourself if you have to. Dress her and then bring her to the master suite."

Hermione's exhausted voice still rang defiant. "I'm right here, you know. I can bathe myself, I don't need any help."

Lucius simply looked down his regal, aristocratic nose at her before turning to sweep out of the room, Draco in tow.

Forty minutes later, a scrubbed-so-clean-she-felt-raw Hermione found herself led by the house elf into an elaborate and airy bedroom suite. A look around the room revealed a lit fireplace done in darkly stained hard wood with a sitting area. A large, dark four poster bed was covered with a light gold spread with hue's of red and burgundy woven through. The bathroom suite entry, that they had just emerged from, was connected to the bedroom with a massive dressing room. Across from the bed French doors that apparently lead to a balcony that overlooked the gardens and a lake. The tapestries were crimson, heavy, and pleated and the rugs were oriental and stunning done in floral patterns of reds and green and golds. Soft Tiffany lamps littered the surfaces glowing with flickering candle light. She walked into the closet where there were dresses, robes, and shoes. All in her size.

Hermione turned to Tinny, eyes wide. "Tinny, whose room is this?"

Tinny looked up at her. "It's your room, Miss." Hermione stared at the elf with shock on her face. "My room?"

"Yes, Miss. Come. We must get you dressed. Master will not be pleased if we delay." The tiny house elf dashed into her closet and came back with a beautiful, soft green gown. Hermione slipped it on and looked at her reflection. She hardly recognized herself. The gown made her look taller than her five-foot four-inch frame. The gown dipped low in the front, amplifying her cleavage, which was assisted by the accompanying silver silk lingerie set the elf had already dressed her in. She was utterly aware of the fact she was being done up in Slytherin colors. Upon closer inspection, Hermione felt she resembled a princess from a King Arthur fairy tale. The dress was snug along her torso and then flared out at her hips. The sleeves began just below the tips of her shoulders, leaving her chest above the swell of her breasts, her collarbone and her shoulders bare. The house elf snapped her fingers and Hermione's hair was instantly tamed into a long, soft braid draping down her back.

"Come, the Masters await." The house elf took Hermione by the wrist and Apparated them to another suite. Hermione swallowed heavily as she took in the space around her. The suite was huge, at least three times the size of her own. The paneling on the walls was dark, the colors deep greens. A brown, leather chesterfield sofa and two wingback chairs faced the intimidating stone fireplace where logs were crackling ominously. An ornate, deep wooden coffee table with marble top in front of the sofa had several books strewn across it. There were bookshelves along the walls, hundreds and hundreds of books. She looked around, noticing the door for bathroom suite and a dressing room, similar to the room she had just left behind. Another balcony with French doors, however the doors were closed with heavy fabric draped over them.

Standing next to the fire were Lucius and Draco. Lucius looked tall and haughty, scrutinizing her as his gaze moved up and down her form lasciviously. She suppressed a shudder and raised her chin defiantly. Draco's eyes stayed on hers, a knowing, smug sneer on his face. Somehow Draco came across more threatening, despite the obvious leering of the elder Malfoy. Both wizards were in dress robes.

Lucius sighed at her insolent look. "You must be hungry. Come." He gestured towards a table with three place settings to this side of the room.

Hermione was actually quite famished, weeks of eating bread, gruel, and water will do that to a person. She slowly walked over and the sight of the elaborate dishes made her stomach growl audibly. It probably should have embarrassed her, especially after the two men exchanged haughty looks. Draco held out a chair for her with sarcastically over-done propriety. After she sat and her seat slid forward, both wizards took their places.

Tinny served each of their plates and filled their wine goblets before disappearing with a pop. Hermione studied her serving while both wizards waited for her to begin eating. The meal was probably plain for them, but she hadn't seen meat in almost two months. Dinner was a beautiful, baked breast of chicken that was accompanied by rice pilaf and sprigs of freshly steamed asparagus. She picked up her knife and fork and slowly cut into the chicken breast to find it was stuffed with mozzarella cheese and seasonings. She would have moaned with the first bite if two sets of eyes weren't watching her avidly. She wondered what was up with all the pomp and circumstance – the bedroom, the bath, the clothing, the meal – when she knew they were probably going to rape her after dessert.

That thought gave her pause, and she stopped chewing for a moment, her eyes still avoiding her hosts. To think she had saved herself, had stayed a virgin all through Hogwarts and while on the run, because she wanted to be sure she was truly in love with her first man. She didn't want to lose it to a hormone-crazed teenage boy, and that included Ron. Thoughts of her dead best friends caused a small sob to escape her lips. She quickly picked up her goblet and took a swallow, willing herself not to cry. Lucius rolled his eyes, Draco simply ignored her, more interested in the food on his plate. Her stomach turned, and she put down her silverware. She was finished eating. The food was almost too rich, anyhow.

"Stop your crying, girl. It will change nothing. All three of us are pawns in the grasp of the Dark Lord."

Hermione's eyes shot up to him. Hatred laced voice. "You have not been held prisoner, Lucius. You have not been threatened with rape at every turn. You haven't slept with rats crawling all around and over you. You haven't lost everyone you loved to…"

"Enough!" he bellowed, and she was stunned into silence. "You know not of what you speak, Miss Granger. We have each of us at this table paid a price." He took a deep breath and then a sip from his crystal goblet. She could visually see him relax. "Suffice it to say, none of us here have control over our futures. We best keep our noses down; do as we are told and try to stay in his favor. Believe me, Miss Granger, you do not want to be on his bad side."

"Hmph," she snickered. "The sooner I'm on his bad side, the sooner he'll kill me."

Lucius sneered. "Did you not hear his threat, Miss Granger? Do you, in all your naïveté, truly think yours would be an easy death?" He leered at her breasts and then at her face, she felt herself shrink slightly, her shoulders rounding to try and prevent him from looking at her. "He meant what he said about sending you to Hogwarts. Do you know what happened to the last young Muggle-born witch who was captured? Hmm?"

She swallowed, her eyes wide, and shook her head slightly. "She was sent to Hogwarts, Slytherin house to start. She was raped and tortured over and over again by young boys and adolescent teens who fancy themselves young men. First year all the way to seventh year boys, Miss Granger. After a week or two – after they had had their fill - she was sent to Ravenclaw, where she was assaulted all over again. Can you guess where she went next?" Hermione didn't answer, didn't look at him. "Hufflepuff, Miss Granger until she finally ended up at Gryffindor." He leaned back, watching her. "And don't think for a minute any of those boys in Gryffindor were too noble to resist the temptation. The Dark Lord instructed them that it was their right as pureblood wizards to use filthy little Muggle-born whores. The Dark Lord was so pleased with the improved attitudes and cooperative behavior of the Hogwarts boys, that he has promised to send fresh stock as able."

Hermione shivered and sunk back in her chair, her eyes now on her plate. As she thought about what he said, a smirk crossed her face. "I would kill myself, I wouldn't let that happen to me."

"Oh, would you now, Miss Granger?" He looked at her until she lifted her eyes to his, hatred burning hot. He jabbed a fork filled with chicken at her. "Not if you were consistently Imperiused and charmed with lust potions you wouldn't."

"That's just...that's just...vile."

Lucius chuckled and put the bite in his mouth. After a short silence while he chewed and swallowed he continued. "Draco here can testify first hand to the delights of the Dark Lords gift, can't you my boy?"

Draco sniggered. "The Dark Lord had me take her first. You know...show the boys how it's done." He smiled, his eyes moving to her breasts openly.

Hermione stared at Draco and swallowed. Throwing subtlety to the wind, she brought her arms up in front of herself to shield herself from their deviant leers. "This world...this world is not fit to live in. Not anymore," she said despondently as she looked at her half-eaten dinner. "Why me?" she asked so softly it was almost a whisper.

Lucius snapped his finger for the house elf. "Why what, Miss Granger?" He asked with obvious impatience.

"Why has he...given me to you?" She almost choked on the words. "Forcing you to take me?" She watched as Tinny appeared.

Lucius studied her as Tinny cleared their plates. "The Dark Lord appreciates many qualities besides just blood status. Despite your...unfortunate heritage, you are a brilliant witch. Potter would have never made it as far as the Battle at Hogwarts had it not been for you. The Dark Lord feels that despite your tainted blood, your children will be worthy, if you are bred with a proper wizard." A look of disgust crept across his face. "I am, that is to say, Draco and I are to...help you see the right of things. If you come around and are cooperative, he has suggested the possibility of you becoming a Malfoy wife. He will sully the name of Malfoy for what he says is the greater good of Wizarding England." His look of disgust was barely contained.

Hermione turned her eyes to Lucius, pleading. "Just let me go! Say that I...say that I escaped! I'll run to America, live as a Muggle if I have to. You won't be stuck with me. It's clear you don't want to marry me! You don't want Draco to marry me, either."

Lucius shook his head. "For such a bright witch, you are ignorant of many things, Miss Granger. You would never get away. What's more, the Dark Lord would know that we released you. It would mean our deaths..." Once again, his eyes draped down her body, leeringly. "Besides, just because I don't want to marry you, doesn't mean I don't want to _fuck_ you."

So, this was her fate. Hermione closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry, not wanting to give the Malfoy men the satisfaction of her hopelessness. She collapsed back into her chair wishing she could sink into nothingness. Then a thought came to her. She would kill herself. It was simple. She just had to get through tonight. Just lay still and let them have their way with her. When Tinny returned her to her suite, she would simply break a mirror or a frame. A sharp object and this could all be over.

Realizing she had to get through this hell before they would leave her in peace, she picked up her wine goblet and drank it down in four large gulps. The glass refilled itself at which time she picked it up once again and gulped it down.

Lucius placed his hand over hers, fingers tightening over her wrist painfully. She let out a puff of surprised discomfort. He was preventing her from bringing the now refilled goblet to her mouth once again. "Now, now, Miss Granger. If there's one thing I can't abide, it's sloppy, drunken fucking. I prefer my witches to be cognizant and aware of every touch...every sensation." He spoke slowly, drawing out each syllable and drawing out the torture of his words and their unwelcome promise.

The older Malfoy turned towards his son. "Wouldn't you agree, son?"

Draco smirked, throwing his napkin on the table and leaning back in his chair. He watched Hermione for a minute and then looked at his father. "Oh, I don't know about that. I find that a little alcohol loosens their inhibitions. They tend to let me do things they might not otherwise allow. Besides, Granger is a frigid bitch and always has been. I doubt she could even begin to relax and let go...let alone enjoy herself without the aid of a lot of alcohol."

Lucius smiled at his son. "That's a good point, my boy. However, in this case we hardly need concern ourselves with her comfort now do we." He looked at Hermione to drive the point home. "After all, if she doesn't please us, and can't be swayed to make us happy, the Dark Lord will simply send her to Hogwarts where her fate will be far worse."

Draco leaned forward. "You hear that, Granger? You really don't want to know what became of that American Mudblood, Jessica." He sneered at her, then let out an evil laugh. "Oh, alright. I'll tell you," he continued, maliciously, enjoying her misery. "After the boys of Hogwarts, a few professors (Filch and parents as well, I might add) were finished with her…" He paused for effect. "After they had no more use for her, she was given to Fenrir. You remember him, don't you? The werewolves raped her...in their wolf forms. Needless to say, it killed her. So yes, she did eventually die. I would guess she eventually found peace." He leaned back in his chair, a triumphant glare as he watched her blanch.

Unable to hold back any longer, silent tears streamed freely down Hermione's face.

Lucius smiled maliciously. "Look at me, Hermione. It doesn't have to be that way for you." When she refused to look at him, he sighed. "The answer lies right in front of you. _Please_ us. Reform your way of thinking. Join the cause and your life could be very easy." A heavy sigh from Lucius and then dreaded words. "Enough talk, let's fuck...shall we?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

 

 **Warning: This chapter is DARK and depicts rape**. Please don't read if this will bother or offend you. Lucius is bad enough, but Draco is truly a nasty piece of work. As the story evolves, so will the dynamic between these three.

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**Chapter Two**

Hermione didn't move. She was frozen to her seat, her body petrified by his words. _Join the fucking cause. Merlin, he's dumber than a box of rocks. I am what the cause is against, how am I supposed to join it?_ She closed her eyes tightly as the sound of chairs scooting back from the table caused her heart to race with dreaded anticipation. What was worse, she could feel the effects of the wine kicking in and it was making her feel a little dizzy and out of control.

When she reopened her eyes, she kept them on the table in front of her. She could feel their approach on either side of her, accompanied by a malicious chuckle from Draco. Her classmate's unmistakable sneer rang loud in her panicked, foggy head. "You know, Granger, this could actually be fun for you…if you'd just get that stick out of your arse." After a short pause, he smirked and added "So that I can shove _my_ stick up your arse."

Lucius reprimanded him with a laugh. "Oh, Draco, how crude."

"Sorry, Father. I just couldn't resist."

Hermione's chest was going to explode, the muscle behind her ribs was ticking at a thousand beats per minute. She closed her eyes again, as if she could pretend it was a nightmare. It was worse than that, though, it was a real-life nightmare. This was it. She was going to be raped and likely tortured by Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Two men whom she hated – and they were _laughing_ about it! All the anxiety she had experienced the past six weeks – every creak of the floor, every turn of a knob, every time she was approached she had feared _that_ would be the moment she would be killed or raped. She had survived all those moments only for this one to arrive. The cruel twist of fate being that instead of some nameless, faceless nobody defiling her, she knew her attackers. She would never be able to get their faces and voices out of her mind.

Deciding there was no use in crying, she opened her eyes and kept her face expressionless as she stood and stepped from the table, moving away from the wizards. An overwhelming sense of panic washed over her as she slowly walked into the center of the room. She was trembling with fear and her movements were hesitant as she glanced nervously around the room. When her eyes landed on the door, her fight or flight impulse took over. Before she had even consciously decided she was going to do it, she was flying across the room, desperately grabbing the knob, willing it open with all her might. She pulled and jiggled it urgently as she heard Draco laugh behind her. "Look Father, she wants to play! Capture and rape the Mudblood princess is one of my favorite games."

 _Merlin help me!_ More despair than she had ever felt in her life poured through her. The tears had broke despite her resolve, and they streamed down her face. Her eyes fluttered closed and she willed the door to unlock. _Please!_ She felt a jolt of magic shoot through her as the knob clicked. For a moment, she was stunned. She had just utilized wandless magic! She had _never_ wielded it successfully before despite multiple, frantic attempts.

With no time to dwell on her triumph, she pushed her thoughts aside as adrenaline spiked through her, blood rushing in her ears. _Run!_ She dashed through the door and down the hall, feeling a jolt of smugness at the exclamations she heard from the two dumbfounded wizards behind her. She had no idea where to go or which way to turn.

She heard Draco's irritated voice behind her, becoming more distant as she moved. "Typical, stupid Gryffindor – rushing out the door with no plan or knowledge of where she might go." She was feeling dizzy from drink and her legs were heavy as she sprinted. Spotting a staircase at the end of the hall, she headed in that direction. The lure of freedom and escape pushed her to move faster.

She was almost to the steps when her escape was halted by Lucius Apparating right in front of her. In her altered state, there was no way she could stop herself fast enough and she crashed into him with an "Oomph!" It stole the breath right from her lungs. She looked up at him in stunned disbelief at how sturdy he was, running into Lucius Malfoy was like colliding with a brick wall.

His hands shot out to grab her, preventing her from falling over. His arms were very strong. She struggled, attempting to kick and bite, but he held her arms pinned to her sides. He made light work of spinning her around and pulling her close so that her back was pressed to his front. His built arms wrapped around her like a thick, coiling snake, preventing her from getting anywhere despite her cries and frantic struggles.

He leaned down, his breath hot on her ear as he spoke quietly and calmly. "Stop fighting, stop biting, or this will be much worse for you. You cannot escape, there is no way for you out of here. The wards are set so you cannot leave."

She continued to fight, even knowing now that it was completely useless. She was unable to just do nothing, giving up meant letting them win. She didn't want them to win. His strength continued to surprise her. He shifted his arms and pulled her even closer until she was completely pinned and unable to move at all. His body felt warm and hard pressed up behind hers. As ridiculous as it was, his embrace calmed her. She felt a blush of warmth began to spread over her skin as he held her, accompanied by a sense of security she knew was so very false. _It's the alcohol!_ She told herself, astonished by her unwanted reaction.

Realizing there was no use in fighting, her body did the only thing it was allowed – it forced sobs up her throat to ring through the air. She crumbled and would have collapsed to the floor had Lucius not scooped her up. He continued whispering words she could barely hear as he carried her back to his suite. "The Dark Lord expects this act to be completed tonight. You cannot win. You _must_ relax and go with it. If you continue to resist it will be that much more horrible for you. Either way, you will be taken tonight, by both of us." After a moment, he added. "Perhaps more than once."

Feeling exhausted before anything had really even started, Hermione whimpered and let her head fall onto Lucius's shoulder as they entered the suite. Draco was undressed to just his trousers, a condescending look on his face as he watched her being carried in.

"Impressive bit of wandless magic there, Granger. Too bad it won't do you any good. It won't save you, especially after the bonding."

His words got her attention and her head shot up, her eyes meeting his. The sudden movement caused the room to spin. She scolded herself once again for consuming so much of the wine so quickly.

Draco smiled maliciously. "Oh, did we fail to mention that part? When we fuck you, there will be a slave bonding. It's only temporary mind you, since – you know – we might not be _keeping_ you."

"What?" She barely whispered. She hadn't thought this could get any more horrifying. Oh, she had been so very wrong.

Lucius set her down on her feet, near the bathroom suite, giving her a look of warning. She was frustrated her body was still quivering. _Pull yourself together, witch. You are stronger than this._

"Yes, Miss Granger. The wine you so _eagerly_ drank contained a potion which binds you to serve us after certain... _acts_ are performed this evening." His gaze wandered to her chest and then back to her eyes. She didn't miss how the ice grey irises darkened slightly. "We will each claim a virgin orifice. I will take your cunt and Draco your arse."

Her expression turned from one of terrified curiosity to mortified horror. She watched as he swallowed hard and looked away from her as if he was embarrassed by what he had just said to her. "If you are, in fact, a virgin," he continued after clearing his throat. "The binding will be very strong. If you have lied, and are actually experienced, the binding will still hold. Regrettably, it won't be as strong." He looked back at her as he began unfastening the front of his robes and he watched her eyes drop to his fingers before flying back to his. She took a couple of steps back towards the bathroom door, fumbling for the handle behind her. She knew she was only prolonging the inevitable, but every fiber of her being was screaming at her to find a way out of this horror show.

"What exactly does the binding do?" she whispered, her voice was shaky and raw. She was afraid to ask for fear of the answer. It fascinated her when Lucius avoided her eyes again. He turned his head and nodded at his son, indicating Draco should take over the dialogue. Draco gave a malicious grin.

"Oh, you're going to _love_ this, Granger," Draco spoke up. "It's quite extraordinary, really. According to Severus, fucking you will bind you to us. You will be forced to follow any command – _any_ – that we give you. I could tell you to fuck a beater bat, and you'd have to do it." He laughed at her mortified expression before pressing on. "You won't be able to escape or harm us. You won't be able to prevent yourself from doing anything we command. You'll be a right old obedient Mudblood slut, just as you should be. Wandless magic or not, you will be ours to _control_."

 _Gods, he couldn't make his glee any more evident, could he? Way to show your hand, you disgusting little ferret._ Hermione's mind whirled with her renewing anger. She much preferred the anger to the hopelessness.

He was still talking and she forced herself to listen. She had to know what she was up against. "You will be compelled to stay in this state until we (or the Dark Lord) finds it is no longer needed or beneficial." He paused for effect. "Or you die."

She forced herself to ignore his last sentence, instead grasping on something he had said at the beginning with the first blossom of hope she had felt in six weeks. "Professor Snape is…alive? How is that possible? I saw him die."

Draco was now down to his boxer shorts. He draped his trousers over a chair with his robes before turning back to her. "Father found him before it was too late. He petrified him to stop the progression of the bleeding and to prevent the spread of the venom. He left him petrified until after the battle." Draco smiled at Lucius, adoration and respect was apparent. "The Dark Lord was most pleased."

With a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, Lucius looked haughty once again. "It was 'Cissa's doing, really. She always had a soft spot for Severus. She was the one who found him. After the battle, the Dark Lord was in a marvelous mood, basking in the glory of his easy defeat of the _Boy-Who-Died_. He was thrilled his trusted servant was still alive, regretful for what he had been driven to do. Severus came very close to dying, but with the expert and quick help of the Dark Lord's personal healer, he is once again in the Dark Lord's favor and inner circle."

Draco was watching her face carefully and smirked, knowingly. "Don't get your hopes up, Granger. We know that Snape was playing both sides of the game, waiting to see who the victor would be. But the victor was the Dark Lord, _Princess_ , and Snape is more devoted to him now than ever. He will not help you." His smirk turned into a leering sneer. "As a matter of fact, he has his own little… _pet_."

Draco's eyes lit up suddenly and he looked at Lucius with excitement. "Oh, perhaps ole Sev would be up for our pets playing together? Two Gryffindor pussies tussling in the sandbox?" He grinned evilly, looking back at Hermione. "Or even better – a mud bath?"

Tuning the Malfoy men out, Hermione's mind spun with this news. Perhaps, despite what they said, her old Professor _would_ help her. And who was this pet of his that Draco mentioned? A Gryffindor? Someone Hermione knew? Perhaps they could help each other.

She was drawn out of her thought process by a pat on her bottom. "Freshen up, use the restroom if you need to. Prepare yourself." Hermione looked up at Lucius, he was glaring down his aristocratic nose at her. This time it wasn't fear that overcame her, but a deep-seated feeling of rage. Who was this wizard to pat her on the behind like she was...like she was a mindless little tart?! She shot him a scathing look, eliciting an amused expression from the elder Malfoy.

Fuming, wanting to rage against him, but knowing she couldn't, she stepped into the restroom. She took the extra effort to slam the door behind herself. She leaned back against the beautifully carved piece of wood, forcing herself to take deep, calming breaths. After a few minutes to collect herself, the anger began to ebb away and the feeling of dread and hopelessness began to wash over her once again.

She distracted herself by looking around. The bathroom was monstrous. It was done in a beautiful and calming pale blue-grey walls with an unusual black and grey tile flooring. The tile gave the room a very masculine flair. To her right was a massive bath that could easily fit six people. It had stunning Turkish tiles in teals and reds making up the basin and sides of the tub. There was a large picture window beside the bathtub, allowing a leisurely soak while admiring the beautiful view of the vast grounds. She could see a swimming pool, a quidditch field, a barn, pastures for miles, and a lake in the distance. He did not have the same view of the gardens her suite had held. _A quidditch field? Really_ _?_ _How ostentatious_ _._ She looked to her left where there was a large shower with two frisbee sized shower heads, glass doors, and glass walls surrounding it. In front of her were two sinks with a grey, marble vanity. The mirrors were stunning, ornately carved and gilded. Finally, there was a door on the other side of the shower that she found led to the toilet.

She lifted her skirt as she crossed the room to the loo and slid the silk panties down her legs. She sat down, emptying her bladder as she contemplated what was about to happen. She really had no choice. She realized that fighting would do no good. Tonight wasn't just about sex for them, it was about power. Their power over her...and they already had it. She could continue to fight and make the game that much more thrilling for the evil bastards or she could quietly submit and perhaps end it all that much sooner.

Her bladder empty, she stepped to the sink and washed her hands while looking at herself in the mirror. _Next time you see yourself, you will no longer be a virgin_. She slid her eyes shut, drawing on the very little inner strength she had remaining, before turning back towards the door. She paused one last time. _They may take and control your body, but they can't control your mind. They can't take your intellect. Whatever happens, it's not your choice. It's not your fault._ _You are a victim, but that doesn't mean you have to act like one_ _. Don't let them break you!_ _Show them who Hermione Granger really is._

She stepped through the bathroom door to find Draco standing by the bed in nothing but blue silk boxer shorts. Lucius was unbuttoning his sleeves and she eyed him as he proceeded to slide off his dress robes. She stood, immobile, not sure where to go or what to do. Draco had a knowing leer on his ugly pointed mug as he scanned her up and down.

She looked away from him, which is when she noticed there was a large mirror next to the bed, so that when on the bed, you could see yourself. _Lovely!_ she thought, even more determined to keep her eyes shut through the entire ordeal.

Her attention quickly shot to the elder Malfoy when his voice rang out. "Take your dress off, Hermione," he implored her gruffly as he unbuttoned his trousers. His soft grey eyes, as well as Draco's darker grey ones, were glued to her. Draco had a malicious and leering sneer, but Lucius watched her without expression. Only his eyes displayed interest as they moved to her breasts, down her dress, and back up again.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had nothing left to lose. So, unable to stop herself, she pleaded with him. "Please, please don't do this to me," her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. She was looking at Lucius, knowing her eyes were brimming with tears again. For some reason, she felt he was her best option. She watched as he froze in the act of undressing and looked at her sharply, his face blanching. A flash of _something_ quickly crossed his face. _Regret?_ _Sympathy?_ It was fleeting, however, and his expression went hard and stony once again.

"Take it off now," he commanded, cocking an eyebrow. "Don't make me say it again."

Hermione clenched her jaw to dam the tears that wanted to spill again, knowing the battle was lost. She slowly reached behind her to find the dress had mini hooks all the way down her spine. As her arms arched behind her, struggling with the first hook, her chest was thrust forward from the effort. Her fingers fumbled and her eyes were on the floor as she refused to look at the soon-to-be rapists. She could feel their eyes on her as she fought with the fastenings. _Be strong, Hermione! It's just sex!_ _It's nothing. There's so much hype around it, don't let yourself fall into that trap. Take it for what it is, a physical act. Nothing more._

She squeezed her eyes shut as she began to work on the second hook. "This is taking too long. Can't you even undress yourself?" Draco scolded, marching towards and around her. She dropped her hands to her sides, cursing the tears that wanted to fall from his stinging remark.

A flash of anger overcame her despair. "Well then perhaps this isn't a dress to have your _slave_ put in if you want her to undress herself!" She shot a contemptuous look over her shoulder. "Take it up with your house elf. Evil little thing insisted it was ' _just perfect for the masters!_ '" she snapped waspishly. Her eyes widened as she heard Lucius snort a laugh and she looked up to him in surprise. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away from her.

"Whatever," Draco muttered before shoving her forward, further away from the bathroom door. She stumbled and he did nothing to try and help her from falling. She caught herself awkwardly as he stepped closer behind her, jerking her upright with his hands on the dress as he forcefully pulled and ripped at the fastenings. She then felt his hands on her lower back as he once again tugged and tore, causing the dress to collapse at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the silver, lace bra and panty set Tinny had dressed her in.

Draco grabbed and squeezed her right butt cheek, his mouth close to her ear. "Nice and tight, prime for fucking." He slapped where he had just squeezed, causing a muffled gasp to leave her throat, and then added with a sneer. "If fucking filth is something you enjoy."

 _Don't let him goad you! Ignore him! He's trying to upset you!_ She kept her eyes down and could see Draco's bare feet as he moved around in front of her, standing next to Lucius. His toes were long and elegant, it bothered her that they pulled her attention. "Look up, Hermione. Look at us. We want to see the full picture of what the Dark Lord has...gifted us." Lucius demanded.

Hermione lifted her caramel eyes to find theirs were not on her face. She felt her skin flush from embarrassment as the two wizards scanned her form. Lucius cocked an eyebrow and began to walk around her. She picked a spot on the far wall to look at, distancing herself from her shame. "Not bad, I'm rather pleased. You looked rather scrawny in your dress, yet you have very lovely hips and your breasts are a nice size." She felt like cattle being appraised at an auction as they leered and commented about her body.

"I guess she's fuckable," Draco added. "She's average, at best."

Lucius shot Draco what seemed like a surprised glance from behind her, his eyes quickly going back to the smooth and flawless skin of her back. "Take this off." He tapped the back of her bra and then walked around to the front of her until he was standing next to Draco. When she didn't move, his voice became harsh as he demanded more dominantly. "Take it off. Now." His tone was clipped. She sighed, trying to give the impression they were boring her. She had to drop her gaze from the safe spot on the wall to focus on the task at hand. When she did, she couldn't help but notice the tenting of both Wizard's boxers. She tried not to look, and she started trembling again. She reached behind her back and unhooked the clasp, causing the strapless lace to simply fall to the floor with her dress.

"Nice breasts, indeed," Lucius added, he said with a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth. It wasn't quite a smile. He started stroking himself through his boxers as he leered.

Draco cocked his head to the side, his familiar, drawling voice making her skin crawl. "I don't know about that. They seem kind of saggy for an eighteen-year-old. Pansy has perfect tits, but then again, Pansy is a pureblood. Superior in every way."

Lucius ignored Draco. He was too busy starting at Hermione's chest. Hermione was frozen, not wanting this to go any further. It was bad enough she was about to be raped, did Draco have to humiliate her as well? Although, why she was surprised, she didn't know. He hadn't changed at all. He was the same Draco he had been since first year.

"The knickers, Hermione," Lucius demanded, his voice slightly hoarse with obvious arousal. She took a breath, steeling herself to be strong before hooking her thumbs under the straps of the knickers and sliding them down her thighs until they slipped from her fingers, sliding to the floor. She kicked them away, unable to stop herself from putting a little force behind it. _Gods, I can't believe this is happening. What the bloody fuck?_ She tilted her head up defiantly, silently daring them to say something scathing. What she found almost made her laugh.

Neither wizard said anything and the room was deafeningly quiet. They had matching expressions, father and son. Their eyes were wide and jaws slack. They looked ridiculous. If it wasn't such an awful thing about to happen, she most definitely would have laughed at the absurdity of it. Her eyes focused on Draco and he caught her watching him. He suddenly stood up straight and his dazed expression turned into a leer. She looked at him, her eyes knowing. He could say anything he wanted, but the gig was up. She knew he found her body appealing. She took a bit of power back for herself.

Draco looked down his nose at her, his sneer a look she had seen on his face hundreds of times since she started at Hogwarts. It was almost disappointing to her he still made that same face. "You have three holes for fucking, that's all that really matters." He turned and walked away. She felt her face drop. _Fuck._ For just a moment she had held the power, and just like that it was gone again.

Lucius shrugged, rolling his eyes at his belligerent son. "Fine. I'm taking her first, then," he said simply and quietly. His eyes continued to move up and down her hourglass form. He walked towards her until he was towering over her. His large, six-foot-one-inch frame dwarfed her five-foot-four-inch one. She stared into his chest, unable to help but note his toned and prominent pectorals, his smooth skin, the ridges of a shockingly defined six-pack, and the trail of white, soft hair from his navel to under the band of his now hugely tented boxers. He was in astonishingly amazing shape for a man in his … What? … Very late thirties? Early forties?

She swallowed nervously, willing herself to stay calm. _Pretend he's Ron!_ She shouted to herself internally as she felt his hands reach out and gently touch her shoulders before tracing down her chest and over the swell of her breasts to her nipples. Her eyes now closed, she felt him pinch her gently, causing an unwelcome shiver to run down her body. Her breasts responded as if they had a mind of their own, her dusky nipples tightening and extending under his ministrations as gooseflesh bubbled across her skin.

A soft chuckle came from him. "Hmm, I think our little witch is going to work out just fine, Draco. She's very sensitive – very responsive – and I've hardly touched her." His hands began to gently cup and massage her breasts. She found herself surprised with how gentle he was being. Determinedly keeping her eyes shut, she tried to convince herself it might not be that bad. If she pretended...pretended this was something she wanted. If she let herself imagine this wasn't all some horrible nightmare that she just wanted to wake up from. _Who are you trying to kid, Hermione Jean Granger? You're about to be raped. Snap the fuck out of it!_

One of his warm, strong hands remained on her breast as the other moved down her stomach to the small strip of trimmed curls at the apex of her thighs. She tried to be still as fingers spread her open and rubbed her. Touched her where no fingers had ever been – save her own – and she had never touched herself in _this_ way. Never for arousal. She had tried to once, in sixth year, but it hadn't felt particularly good and she had stopped immediately. This felt...strange, though. As one hand smoothed across her breast, gently plucking and rolling a nipple, the other moved on her in such a way that she felt her breathing begin to speed up. Her head was starting to feel fuzzy. A soft gasp of pleasure slipped past her lips as an invisible cord pulled that connected her nipples to her womb. _This must be from the wine!_ Ahh, yes. That was it. It was because of the _wine_ that she felt this way. It was because of the wine that this felt almost...good.

She began to relax, convinced her body was responding like this because of the guzzled alcohol. She did not need to feel guilty for enjoying it, it wasn't her fault. She felt his fingers become more vigorous and urgent between her legs and at the same time she felt a warmth, a delicious clenching, coiling deep in her belly. Something was building. It was a strange feeling, and she became nervous. She bit her lip and felt herself start to tremble, the fear of her own arousal adding to her confusion.

Lucius pressed a cheek against the side of her head, the length of his body coming in more contact with hers. "Relax, Hermione. Let yourself feel this. Don't fight it." His words were whispered soothingly into her ear, so quietly that she knew Draco couldn't have heard. Suddenly, she was scooped into his strong arms again. A squawk being pulled out of her unwillingly as he carried her to the bed and lay her back on it. He nestled her head on a soft pillow before backing away to slip his boxers off. He climbed onto the bed, spreading her legs with his knees and resting his hips between them.

The hard, hot insistency of his cock on her inner thigh brought Hermione's panic and fear back to the forefront of her mind, but his hand once again began manipulating her body, turning her against herself. He rubbed the sweet spot between her legs. The coil inside her began to move faster as he focused on a very sensitive spot. "Oh, God," she whispered, turning her face away as the insistent manipulation sped up and his other hand once again found her breast, then the sensitive peak at the tip of it. Her voice betrayed her, letting out a moan of pleasure.

"That's it, relax. Just feel," he whispered. Then suddenly she felt something start to move inside her. It slipped in and out slowly, gently, and through her heady haze, she realized it must be a finger. It felt good and she felt her hips move forward, gently thrusting towards his hand. She didn't do it consciously.

"That's it. Good girl," he whispered soothingly. Shockingly, his praise relaxed her. She didn't know what she was doing. The sensation changed after a few moments, all of a sudden she felt fuller. She assumed this change to be two fingers inside of her as what must be his thumb continued to rub the special spot that felt so good. It sounded wet and loud as his fingers started to become more aggressive, firmly pumping in and out.

Suddenly, his fingers pulled away and something large was pressing against her. It felt huge and she realized it was his erection. He was starting to press into her. _This is it!_ She told herself, trying to shy away from the rising sense of panic. "Oh, Gods. Please, don't," she whispered, utterly desolate. She turned her head away, breaking the contact of his face on hers. She felt his movement pause momentarily before his fingers moved back to that special spot again, fondling her furiously. Causing more of that coiling, building sensation. The return of that delicious awareness made her forget about the battering ram trying to force its way inside her and she retuned her focus to what felt good.

"Relax. Let yourself enjoy it, Hermione." His kind words allowed her to relax and the use of her name was welcoming. She had been called nothing but Mudblood, whore, witch, and many times nothing at all. It made her feel like a person again, to hear her name. The clenching and coiling in her belly became more intense as he continued to massage her nub. She willed herself not to fight it as he whispered quietly in her ear again. "Let it go. Breathe. Just feel, Hermione."

A tear slid down her cheek. For what, she didn't know. She just felt overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fear, arousal, terrible confusion, and this delicious feeling boiling up inside of her. It built and built and then she clenched as an explosion of pleasure overcame her. Her heart pounding, her breath hitching, she felt waves of pleasure pulse through her belly and her core. It was the most amazing thing, and for a split second she thought. _So, this is what all the fuss is about._ But then, there was pain. Intense pain. Lucius had thrust his hips forward, ripping her open, taking her maidenhead. She let out a cry that choked into a sob as she felt him tearing her in two. She tensed, every muscle in her body clenching, and he froze.

A strange feeling came over her as he whispered. "Relax." His voice raw, almost choked sounding. "You need to relax, Hermione. It will feel better if you aren't so tense." It was strange how her body obeyed his whisper. Every muscle simply let go. She felt the tension in her stomach, her thighs, her back, her shoulders, and even her neck…just calm. Like someone had flipped a switch. She felt heavier as she settled more into the soft pillow and mattress beneath her.

"Good girl," he whispered once again, and once again his praise made her feel warm. She lay still, overwhelmed with what was happening. She had just had her first orgasm and was having sex with Lucius Malfoy. And it felt good…at the same time it felt wrong. She should be fighting him, yet her body was relaxed and _not_ fighting. Her brain, on the other hand, was screaming. She bit her lip to stifle the sob that wanted to break through.

He began to pull back and thrust into her as her body continued to melt. "Ah, yes...that's it. Now, move your hips up and back as I move in and out. Meet me." Once again, her body simply did as he instructed and, to her devastation, she found it felt good. The pain was almost gone, it was just a sore feeling. She felt full and filled and he was hitting a spot that was so deep inside her…it made her whimper a gasp. His pace began to increase with the positive sounds that were being forced from her throat of their own accord. "Yes, so fucking tight. So good...such a good girl," he whispered, his voice still raw. Another, low moan of pleasure escaped her chest, tears once again leaving her eyes without her permission. One of his hands grabbed her wrists and held them above her head, as his head dipped and his mouth moved to her left breast, where he began to nibble as he continued to move within her, his pace and force increasing.

She tried to stifle a gasp as he bit down on the nipple softly and then ran his tongue over her breast as his pace began to quicken even more. She gasped as the spot deep within her was massaged more forcefully, small sex noises erupting from her throat against her will. _Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ She chanted silently. _You sound like a wanton whore!_

"Merlin, you feel good," he whispered. "You will come to my room and climb onto my bed at six every morning so that I can fuck you."

"Ok – ah!" she whimpered. Not liking that she had agreed so easily, yet not able to stop herself from saying it. _Oh my God! It's the potion!_ She suddenly realized what was happening. Her body's response to his command to relax, her immediate acquiescence to his instruction to come to his bed, her hips following his command...it was all because of the potion. The realization didn't change anything, though. She couldn't stop herself. She continued to lie there relaxed and thrusting her hips with his as he fucked her, she had no ability to fight it.

The coiling was back in her belly, steadily clenching tighter. She didn't want to come again, she didn't want him to be able to control her so entirely. But she was so close…she was going to…going to…suddenly he froze and let out a moan, bucking hard three more times as he shouted. "Fuuuckkk!" She felt his cock pulsing inside her and after a minute, when he slowly pulled out, liquid rushed out of her. The building orgasm ebbed out almost painfully and her hips rolled, trying to find somewhere for the tension to go. He rolled onto his back, next to her, not noticing her dilemma. His chest was heaving with heavy breaths.

She lay there, frozen. Unsure what she should do next. "Very nice. You'll do nicely." He said as he simply climbed over her and hopped off the bed, leaving her behind.

A tingle of ice rushed through her at his cold words. She didn't understand why she felt a sense of loss when he left the bed. She watched his retreating form from under the protection of her eyelashes as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He didn't even look back at her. She swallowed a lump down as she rolled onto her side, pulling her legs up so that she was in a small ball. She just wanted to disappear and not think about what had just happened. She didn't want to think about what he had just made her feel.

"Finally!"

Hermione's head snapped up to the sight of a leering, naked Draco Malfoy. She had forgotten he was even there, much less that he was about to take her as well. Based on what Lucius had told her, Draco would be taking her in a very unnatural way.

She watched him with wide eyes as he hopped on the bed and straddled over her. Her stomach roiled like she was going to be sick at the feel of his length on her bare skin. He reached forward and roughly took her breasts into his hands. He slapped them around, not too hard, but enough to make them juggle and shake. He grinned. "Oh, Granger. This is going to be fun."


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize, we do not own and I'm not making any money off it. I write for fun.

 **Non** **-Con/Heavy M rating – if we could rate this NC-17, I would:** **This is what we would consider literotica. It has extremely controversial issues such as non-consensual sex/rape, extreme** **violence/torture** , **war-time crimes, heavy lemons (smut), and the list goes on. Rape is a personal journey for each victim. No two rape victims are alike. You will see continuous rape over a long period of time in this story, a magical slave bonding, a touch of Stockholm Syndrome, and more.** **IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT... PLEASE, JUST MOVE ON. THANK YOU :)**

 **Adult Tags:** 3Plus, Abuse, Angst, Bi(?), Bondage, Controversial, Dom, DP (?), D/s, Fetish (?), Fingering, Hurt/Comfort, Hand Job (?), Humiliation, Mind Control, M/F, M/M(?), F/F (?), Oral sex, Spanking, Toys (?), Masturbation, sexual intercourse, rape, torture, beating, anal intercourse, rimming, BDSM, extreme emotional situations, and others we probably haven't thought of yet.

 ** _Read at your own risk._** If you don't like it - we don't need to hear from you. Flames are not necessary or welcome - just walk away. We  **realize this story isn't for everyone.**

**In this chapter the abuse has been turned up a notch, which is why warnings have been reposted.**

**FYI - This story has a long journey ahead and the relationships will change and evolve over time.**

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Thanks to _LissaDream_ for co-authoring this story with me. Love you, LD!!

As always, thank you for reading, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions and comments!!

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**Chapter Three**

His eyes raked down her body. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and waved it over her, casting a cleansing charm. It caused an unnerving tingling in her groin. She squeezed her eyes shut, realizing this was going to be nothing like Lucius. Lucius had ended up being kind to her. He had been gentle right up until the moment he had rammed into her, but his words had been soothing and he had tried to make it somewhat easier on her. She supposed with a virgin, there was no way to get away from the pain. He had taken the time and effort to give her pleasure. She didn't think Draco was going to do the same.

He licked his lips and leaned forward, taking her right breast into his mouth almost savagely. She flinched as he flicked her nipple with his tongue before sitting back up. His eyes roved up and down her, appraising her, then they then shot back up to lock with hers. "This is where you belong, you know that, right?" She didn't answer or respond, but felt her face cloud over with embarrassment and shame as he continued. "On your back, a vessel for the pleasure of better wizards." He said the words simply, without a sneer. To him it was just a simple fact. It was as Voldemort had told the boys at Hogwarts: it was their right as purebloods to fuck and use Mudbloods as they wished. Clearly Draco had "drank the purple Kool-aid" as the American saying went.

His hands began to move over her, squeezing, plucking, and lightly slapping the planes and slopes of her body. She felt herself cringe and shy away from him. Her movements only seemed to please him. "Yes, a tight little bod." He looked over at Lucius who had reappeared from the loo and was donning a robe. "You don't care if I let Blaise and Theo have a go with her, do you, Father?" He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow at the shocked look on her face. "They'd love a go with the princess of Gryffindor."

She heard Lucius chuckle and felt more shame slice through her body. _Get ahold of your emotions, Hermione. Don't let them see how they're making you feel. It only gives them more control_.

Lucius' voice came from the other side of the room. "Hmm. Well, normally I would say the more the merrier, but considering there is a slight possibility she will be your wife – or perhaps even mine – it would be best if your friends hadn't sampled her charms. Once it's determined she will _not_ be Malfoy, then I don't care who you lend her out to. As long as she comes back unmarked and unharmed. Only you and I shall have that right."

She closed her eyes, disgusted at being discussed in such a way, as though she were a common whore or a hound to be lent out for a hunt. Like she wasn't in the room, lying right there, hearing every word. She knew she shouldn't and knew it was irrational, but she was disappointed and hurt all the same that the man who had just taken her virginity and given her her first orgasm was talking about her in such a way. She had been raped, but it had seemed like... _Stop it, Hermione. You were simply raped. It was nothing more. He used you and didn't look back._

Her attention was jolted back to the wizard straddling her legs. Draco had stopped talking and watched her for a minute. "I really want to fuck your mouth. It's been a fantasy of mine to shut you up that way for years." She let an incredulous growl slip through her lips and he contemplated her stormy gaze for a moment before sighing. "Nope, not until after you've been bound to me." He wiggled his eyebrows, and whispered conspiratorially. "I wouldn't want you to bite me, after all." He chuckled at his own sordid joke.

She felt a rage begin to build inside of her. Rage for this wizard, more rage than she had felt towards even Voldemort. Draco had tormented her for over six years. She was furious with God, with fate, with herself for ending up here...at _his_ mercy. Of all the awful, nasty, hateful wizards she could have been bonded to…why had fate stuck her with _him_! Laying before him...naked and exposed. Being prodded, insulted, teased, degraded, and about to be raped...a second time. She could think of nothing but ripping his eyes out of their sockets. She never wanted them on her again. Or his hands. Or his mouth…and definitely not his disgusting prick.

As she seethed, his eyes moved from hers and he let out a breath as he looked her over. He was like a kid with a birthday cake who didn't know which part to cut into first. His hands began to glide up and down her, his eyes on her face. "Look at me, Granger," he demanded. She opened her eyes and was overcome with such a fierce loathing that she was unable to stop herself. She spat hard in his face, hitting him on the cheek.

He froze, a look of shock on his face. His hand reached up very slowly and he wiped his cheek. He looked at the spittle on his fingers with an almost incredulous expression for a moment and then quickly raised his hand higher and slapped her across the face – hard.

Her face whipped to the side, the force of his slap stunning her. She pulled her hand up to her cheek, tears spilling down her face from the awful sting.

He grabbed his wand. "Accio cravat." His neck tie from his formal robes flew to his hand. He waved his wand over it, transfiguring it into a long strip of fabric before gripping her face hard in on hand, forcefully shoving it into her mouth, and tying it behind her head. More tears fell and she tried not to gag as the fabric dried out her mouth and tickled the back of her throat. "There, no more spitting."

He sneered at her once again. Then spoke slowly, as if she were too stupid to understand him. "I'm going to fuck you, daily. Multiple times… _every_ day. When I want, where I want, and in whatever way I want. I'm going to fuck your mouth until you think you'll vomit, your sweet little rosebud until you won't be able to sit, your pussy until it's wrecked. I'm going to tie you up, string you from the ceiling, whip you until your arse is red and flaming." He seemed to relish the widening of her eyes, the horrified expression behind them. He let out a low laugh before dragging his tongue long her cheek just under where the gag was tied and she cringed away from him. "And you know what you're going to do about it?" He paused, enjoying the torment her eyes so deliciously conveyed. "Absolutely nothing." His gaze slid down her body once again. She recoiled under his lascivious perusal. It made her feel filthy. Father and son were night and day. Lucius had at least tried to make it a pleasant experience. _Because rape can be_ pleasant _, Hermione. What the fuck is the matter with you?_

He leaned over her before sliding down her stomach and to the apex of her thighs. He forced her legs apart and rubbed her roughly with his hand. "Hmmm, lets moisten you up a little, shall we?" Anger still raging through her, she tried to close her legs but he grabbed her knees in a bruising grip, forcing them apart. He moved his face between her thighs and she let out a muffled squeal of protest when his tongue began to lick up and down her folds. She reached down and grabbed his hair, pulling hard. He grabbed her wrist, squeezing it violently until she was forced to let go. He looked up at her. "If you touch me again, I'll tie your hands, too." His eyes were glittering like sun spots off a frozen pond, daring her to continue trying to fight him.

She stilled, not wanting her hands tied. She closed her eyes. _Stop it, Hermione. You can't prevent this. Not tonight. Be still. Your making this more exciting for him._

He watched her, making sure she wasn't going to grab him or hit him again, before dipping his head to her folds once more. He darted his tongue in and out of her pussy. She was battling with the realization that it felt crude and abusive the way he was treating her, yet his mouth on her was causing her body pleasure at the same time. He moved his tongue up to the pleasure point that Lucius had focused on and began to nibble and suck, causing her to squirm and grunt through the gag. He continued his ministrations and began to finger her. She groaned, frustrated with how rough he was being, yet turned on by the stimulation.

He pulled back, his eyes glued to the pink folds between her legs. "Mmm, he's right. You are _very_ responsive." He rubbed her with his fingers. "Nice and wet." He licked her one more time. "Roll over, Rover and face the mirror," he demanded as he hopped off the bed. Hermione felt panic and dread build again as she knew what was coming. She froze, unable to move. She took deep breaths through her nose. She felt like she was suffocating. She heard him open a bedside drawer. "I told you to roll over." His hands grabbed her hips, flipping her easily. He used both palms to spread her cheeks and she cried out, the sound muffled by the gag. Instinct taking over, she reached behind, trying to slap his hand away.

He grabbed her hand, stilling it. "If you don't stop, I won't use the numbing potion on your arse." Tears streamed down her face as she stilled. He watched for a minute before once again spreading her open and coating something cold over her rear entrance. "This will relax the muscle and numb the area. I'm doing you a favor," he said with a touch of impatience. "Maybe next time I'll just let you feel every painful inch. Then you'll know how merciful I really am being."

She resigned herself to ignore him, trying to distance herself from the experience. She was forced back to reality when she felt a tingling sensation as he whispered a spell. "Now you're nice and clean as well."

"Up on your hands and knees, pet. It's time for the Princess of Gryffindor to get it up the arse." Fighting tears yet again at his cruelty and abusiveness, she pushed herself into position. "Look in the mirror," he commanded. Not giving her a chance to respond, he leaned forward and grabbed her braid forcing her face up. He was still standing beside the bed behind her. She watched as his head dipped down behind her body. He spread her once again before his tongue swirled her pucker. She yelped from the unwelcome pleasure versus revulsion at his assault. _What is wrong with me, why does that feel good?!_ He forced the tip of his tongue in and out and then pulled back, looking her in the mirror, his voice condescending. "See, Granger? Your body is my play toy, just as the Dark Lord said. I enjoy my toys. I use them…a lot."

She watched as he climbed onto the bed behind her, stroking his erection. His penis looked large and the tip was dark purple as he stroked it. He looked at her in the mirror, a smirk on his face. "I see you looking at my cock. Don't worry, you'll become intimately acquainted with it once you are bound to me."

Morbidly unable to look away, she watched as he positioned himself behind her. "Here we go," he whispered. She watched in horror as he grabbed his glans and moved closer to her. She felt what she assumed was a finger rub her entrance and wiggle its way in. She flinched at the awkward intrusion. It didn't hurt, she did feel numb, but she felt pressure. She felt like she needed to move her bowels, but knew he had just cleaned her out with a charm. His finger moved around and then she felt another finger move into her. She could feel him stretching her. His eyes on his fingers as he worked her, he said simply. "You have a perfect ass for fucking."

She watched as he straightened up. "Ok, eyes on the mirror, princess. Stay on your hands. I want to watch your face and your tits as I take you this way."

She looked up, exhausted. She just wanted this over. She closed them again as she felt intense pressure and hands on her hips, squeezing her hard, holding her in place. "Open your eyes." He demanded. She opened them to find his eyes on hers. His jaw fell open and she watched as his tongue ran over his teeth before he pushed himself in with a forceful thrust. He smiled and closed his eyes briefly. "Nice," he whispered.

Her body instantly tensed. _Oh God!_ Her hands gave out as her chest fell to the bed. His hands held her hips in place, gripping her hips so hard it would likely leave bruises. She hated it. She hated everything about it. She wasn't in pain, but it was very uncomfortable. It was humiliating. It was Draco Malfoy sticking his cock in her ass. He ignored her. His eyes moved down, watching himself slide out and back in, deeper this time. He began thrusting.

His eyes were back on her reflection in the mirror. "Get back up on your hands."

She pushed herself back up as he continued his assault. He smiled as he watched her tormented face in the mirror. He began moving faster causing her tits to sway underneath her, his eyes glued to them. "It looks like the potion worked, but let's be sure." After a couple more thrusts he whispered with malicious glee. "Bark like a dog."

Shocked that her mouth even opened, she was even more stunned when she let out a bark. Draco began to laugh. She looked down at the bed, unwilling to watch him laugh at her. She was so mortified.

He quit laughing and began to let out little grunts as he pumped in and out of her, his pace increasing. Suddenly he reached around her waist and pulled her back so that she was in a tall kneel position, her back arched as he sat on his knees behind her, continuing to piston in. He gently leaned her back onto him. "Keep your eyes on the mirror," he whispered. Immediately her eyes shot up to the mirror. "Massage your tits," he ordered. Her hands quickly moved to her breasts where she began to fondle them. "Alternate massaging them and pinching your nipples." She watched in the mirror as her hands obeyed his command.

His eyes on the mirror, he whispered. "Mmm, can't deny it, Granger. Your ass was made for fucking and you look so hot taking it." He continued thrusting, watching her.

She observed in revulsion as he pumped her from behind and her hands stayed on her breasts, unable to pull them away. He kissed her cheek, and she flinched away from him. His eyes were on hers in the mirror and he whispered. "Ok, now move your dominant hand to your clit and rub one out for me, okay? I want to feel your walls clamp down on me." He reached up behind her head and untied the gag, tossing it aside.

Her right hand moved to her clit and began to rub. It was awkward and felt nothing like when Lucius had done it. "That's it," he whispered. "Now smile at the mirror, my little pet. You're being watched. Let's give them a good show, shall we?"

Hermione felt numb all over, her brain fuzzy. She heard his voice but had no idea what he said. She felt her mouth move into a smile, but she didn't know or care why.

After a minute, Draco gave her another direction. "Touch yourself like you do when you're alone." When she just continued to fondle herself in an unsure way, he got a confused look on his face. "I know you're compelled to do what I say, so why aren't you getting yourself worked up, huh?" He continued pumping. "Answer me!" He snapped.

She was pulled out of her fog when he raised his voice. She sounded world weary as she answered with a raw voice. "I've never done this before."

He suddenly stopped moving, a bewildered look on his face. "Granger, are you saying you've never had an orgasm before tonight?"

She swallowed, abased at being forced to answer such a personal question. "No, I never have."

He let out an incredulous laugh. "The first time you ever climaxed, it was my father who got you off?"

"Yes," she barely whispered, her voice caught in her throat. Her humiliation complete.

He got a huge smile on his face and he yelled back into the room. "Hey Dad! Guess what? You were her first orgasm...ever! Priceless!" He began pumping her again, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all.

His laughter and taunting finally broke her. A tear slid down her cheek. She started to cry with her eyes frozen to the mirror. Her left hand was still on her breasts; her right still on her clit, flicking in unsure, jerky movements. Doing as he had ordered like a puppet. All with a smile on her face.

"Stop touching yourself and stop smiling for Merlin's sake." He muttered, exasperation replacing the amusement his voice. "Do I have to do everything?" He rolled his eyes. He wanted her to orgasm so that she would tighten on him for his own pleasure. He started to move again, slowly. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth and he said with clear annoyance. "Just close your eyes and lean back into me." His voice suddenly became softer. She did as she was instructed, the binding giving her no alternative. He kept one hand on her hip and another reached around, spreading her open. She felt pressure on her clit and after a moment it began to feel good. "Just relax," he murmured.

He began to move faster with both his hips and his hand. She was so tired, she just wanted him to stop. She wanted to fight him. _Just relax._ Her body wouldn't allow her mind to fight the command. She no longer controlled her own actions. He kept fondling her. She shook her head, choking back an outraged sob, she didn't want this. She didn't want to orgasm...not like this. Not with him. But she had no control.

"That's it," he whispered. She felt her breathing pick up and the new, but now familiar, coiling and clenching in her womb as her arousal built. He began manipulating her more vigorously. The delicious but unwanted sensation just kept escalating.

She shook her head. "No, no. Please, stop."

He whispered hoarsely. "Yes, pet. Come on. Let go, relax." His words were said soothingly, like Lucius'. She let out a small moan as she felt her body about to betray her for the second time that night, and then cried out through gritted teeth as the tight coil of pressure erupted. Her core clenched and unclenched repeatedly as her climax tore through her. Her head fell back on his shoulder, her muscles too weak to hold it up.

"Grrrrroooooohhhhh, Merlin." He poured himself into her, grunting behind her as he continued to pump through his orgasm before finally freezing with one last, brutal thrust. His chest was heaving against her back and his hand moved up from her clit to her breast, squeezing roughly as he continued to catch his breath. His head collapsed forward onto her shoulder.

After a minute, he let out a slow, shuddering breath. His hands slid to her hips. "Ok, get off me now," he commanded. He sounded as if he was disgusted. She leaned forward and felt him slip out of her, it was an unpleasant sensation that made her wince. Once again, liquid rushed out of her, leaving her feeling dirty and used. She collapsed forward onto the bed. Her rear entrance felt strange – empty somehow. She rolled onto her side, drawing her legs up into a fetal position. She felt the bed dip behind her as he climbed out. Relief and exhaustion overtook her. It was over. For today, it was over.

She could hear the deep tenor of male voices, but couldn't tell what was being said. She found she didn't care. She slipped into welcome unconsciousness.

* * *

Hermione moaned as she rolled over, flipping her pillow to the cool side. She was thoroughly exhausted, but an unwavering and intense pressure from her bladder was screaming at her. She slowly opened her heavy eyelids and noticed soft moonlight filtering in through fine, linen curtains over the French doors she was facing. This confused her greatly. _Wait..curtains? Moonlight? A soft bed?_

Then, it felt like a bludger had struck her as the horrifying memories of where she was and what had happened crashed down on her. She felt as if her stomach had dived right out of her body onto the floor. She forced herself up with her arms and an anguished moan tore through her throat. Her muscles were aching all over as though she had run a marathon. She forced herself into a sitting position, tossing the soft sheets and downy comforter off her. She gingerly moved her legs off the side of the mattress and cautiously slipped out of the bed. Her feet met soft carpeting that felt like velvet. It was such a difference from the damp, cold concrete she had grown use to during her captivity, but her new accommodations had not made the terror and grief of her life dissipate.

She yawned as she padded to the bathroom, dim lights automatically came on as she entered the en suite. Her eyes scanned the space remembering the awful bath that horrid little elf had forced on her. Where Lucius' bathroom had been pale grey, hers was a very soft and pale peach. The marble tile was white and crisp on the floor. Her shower was simple, basic, but she had a lovely tub. It was large and deep with tiles on the bottom that all formed together to make a beautiful mermaid with a stunning green to teal tail, pale ivory skin for her torso and long blond hair that trailed over her breasts and shoulders. She was turned so that she looked like she was swimming sideways and away, but her face was looking back into the room.

She made her way through the bathroom and noticed her reflection in the mirror over the sink and vanity. Her hair was still in a braid. A braid that was coming apart, her tresses in knots. It was going to be hell dragging a comb through it. She noticed in bewilderment she was wearing a white, low cut night sheath. It was thin and practically see through. Her pink nipples visible as well as the thin thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs. What really caught her attention, however, was the welt across her left cheek and a shadow of a bruise just to the right of her chin. She could only guess that the marks were from when Draco slapped her and then grabbed her face to shove the gag in her mouth.

Morbidly curious, she painstakingly pulled the sheath dress off her and took stock. Her arms and shoulders were tired with muscle aches that reminded her of the day after a light to moderate free weight work out. There was a shadow of a bite on her right breast. She looked down and studied it for a moment before turning to her side, she gasped as she saw why her hips were so tender before quickly turning to the other side. She had matching sets of what must be fingertip bruises along each hip. Again, they must be from when Draco had gripped her. Her eyes returned to her face before she quickly averted her own gaze. Shame and humiliation filled her. She should have fought harder, she should have fought so hard they would have had no choice but to kill her. There was this little voice in the back of her head, though. A voice that told her being alive and humiliated was better than being dead and gone. She reached out and snatched it up, hanging onto that notion, for better or for worse. She put the nightgown back on before dismissing herself from the tortures of the mirror.

Completely bewildered as to how she ended up in her bed and in a night sheath at all, she continued towards the toilet. She lifted the lid and turned to sit, finding her leg muscles very weak and tender. As she urinated she felt a burning sensation and the muscles to move her bladder made her rear entrance feel tender. She was only able to evacuate a small amount of urine, yet she had felt like she was about to burst. She sat there for a few minutes, willing the burning to stop. After a few more moments, a couple drips escaped her and the burning intensified once again.

"Brilliant! A bloody UTI!" She muttered to herself. She wanted to cry but was too knackered to put forth the effort.

She wiped, cringing at the discomfort it caused, and stood, gingerly walking to the sink. _I feel like I've been hit by the freaking Hogwarts Express._ She remembered getting a UTI when she was much younger. Madam Pomfrey had given her a potion and it had cleared up right away. She didn't know what she would do this time, though. If she told the wizards she was bound to, they would probably be thrilled she was suffering. Well, perhaps not Lucius, she wasn't quite sure about him. He was a rapist, but a somewhat civilized one for the most part. _What an oxymoron, Hermione. Are you listening to yourself?_ Draco was a different story. She reflected back to Lucius, still surprised he had been so gentle with her. There was something off with him…something she couldn't put her finger on. She'd have to think about it more when she wasn't so tired.

She looked in the cabinets, hoping to find a pain reliever or something, but there was nothing. She left the bathroom and headed back into the main chamber. To her right, the French doors with the pale moonlight coming through was very luring. She stepped to them, attempting to open the ornate entry way and get some fresh air but they wouldn't budge. _Probably warded so that I can't jump and end this misery._

Still blurry from sleep deprivation, she decided she didn't care at the moment and moved back to the soft bed, climbing into it. The feeling of having to pee was still making her uncomfortable, but not so much that sleep didn't immediately drag her back under. She felt like she had just fallen back to sleep when she was startled awake, feeling forcefully compelled to go to Lucius' room.

Her eyes only half open, she slid out of bed once again and headed back to the loo. She was still suffering from the awareness of an over-full bladder with that awful burning sensation. She had no more success on the toilet than before, and she knew she would have to say something. An untreated UTI could be painful and, if left too long, deadly. Not knowing why she cared, she went through the motions of washing her hands and face and cleaning her teeth, all the while avoiding her reflection. Her hair would take more time then she felt she had, so she settled for pulling out the rest of the braid and finger coming the mess into a knot high on her head so it was out of her face and off her neck.

Finished with her ablutions, she walked towards her bedroom door, glancing over her shoulder longingly at the marvelous bed. As she crossed the room, she realized she had no idea how to get to Lucius' room. It turned out to be a moot point because when she turned the knob the door wouldn't open.

She sighed and considered just going back to bed, but that idea quickly seemed terrible as wave of anxiety and a sense of panic crashed over her. She had wondered what would happen if she simply forced herself to ignore a command. It seemed she now had her answer. Sweat began to form on her brow as she began to frantically pull on the door. There was an overwhelming sense of urgency and she could feel her heart beginning to pound so hard she could hear it in her ears, her adrenaline spiking. She didn't know if she could tap into wandless magic again and was about to try when something caught her eye.

Beside the door, on a small table, was a piece of parchment that seemed to be glowing. On it was written in elegant, cursive script. " _Lucius' bed at 6am so that he can fuck you." Oh, how disgustingly crude. Couldn't just say "Lucius' room at 6am?"_ She picked up the parchment and was filled with dread when she experienced the tug at her navel of a portkey. Everything went dark, and she felt like she was being sucked through a dark straw, until she landed harshly by the door inside Lucius's pitch-black suite, barely keeping her upright position.

It took her a minute to regain her equilibrium. As she began to feel grounded, she slowly turned to face the massive room. It was much darker than her room, as his windows and French doors had heavy fabric coverings blocking out the light. Even though her panic was ebbing, she still had the intense need to climb into his bed. She didn't want to, but she _had_ to.

Still very sore and feeling weak, not to mention utterly bushed, she slowly made her way over to the massive bed. She could hear his soft snores and it occurred to her that if she were very quiet she might be able to creep into the bed and simply go to sleep.

Trying to be silent and to cause as little movement of the bed as possible, she attempted to push herself up and onto the massive thing. His bed was much taller than hers, reaching just above her navel. Her shoulders and arms ached and screamed in protest as she once again tried to use her upper body strength to make her way into the bed. Giving it up for a bad job, she stepped closer to the foot of the bed and was able to use the base of the footboard as a step, having to grab the bed post to hoist herself up. She crumpled onto the foot of the bed near the corner, and would have been fine to just lay there and go back to sleep, but the pull of his command was causing her body to move towards him.

She crawled slowly up the mattress until she was so close she was almost touching him. The pull finally stopped, her heart slowing as her body began to relax. Her mind, on the other hand, was screaming in protest, wanting to be anywhere else...well…with the exception of the _younger_ Malfoy's bed.

Gingerly and wearily, she noiselessly lowered herself next to him. She tried to move just a touch farther away so that she could rest her head on a different pillow from his, but the pull wouldn't let her. Her body wouldn't budge. _Really?!_ She screamed in her head. This was going to get old very fast. She had to figure a way out of this mess. She pulled another pillow closer and rested her head on it, pride and dignity not allowing her to share his.

She slowly exhaled and closed her eyes, hoping for a deep slumber to take her into pleasant unconsciousness. Her hopes were dashed almost as soon as they entered her mind as a strong arm reached over her waist and pulled her so she was spooning into his chest, an already prominent erection digging into her bum. Her eyes flew open wide and she just stifled the gasp that threatened to be pulled from her chest. She was no longer tired. His hand slid up the flimsy sheath draped over her body and cupped her breast.

Lucius breathed a lazy sigh through his nose and then whispered words close to her ear, causing her to shiver with disgust. "Ahh, I see my wake-up fuck has arrived."


	4. Chapter 4

**Same Disclaimer as before. I own none of this!**

**Same Warnings as prior chapters. The abuse and rape continues through this chapter. However, this story will be much more than just rape and abuse. We are getting there, we promise. I say _we_ because LissaDream and I are _co-authoring_ this story as well as Master Mine which she has just posted.  Please check out Master Mine if you haven't already done so!**

**We would love to hear your thoughts so please review! Kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions and comments are all appreciated. It's the only way we know whether or not you like the story. Thanks so much for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Ahh, I see my wake-up fuck has arrived." Lucius pulled her closer, spooning her, his erection obvious against her backside. His left hand wiggled underneath her, bunching up her sheath at her waist as his other hand continued stroke her breasts. His words made her nauseous and his hands made her flinch as they roved and meandered over her tender skin. His hard-on continued to rub against her bum as she felt him gently move against her. She squeezed her eyes shut. _Oh, God. Please don't bugger me! Please don't bugger me!_ As much as she didn't want him to touch her or fuck her, she _really_ didn't want him anywhere near her arse.

His right hand slid from her breasts to her mound and his fingers began to play with her, spreading her open, rubbing her clit and then up and down her folds. She flinched more violently as his hand became more aggressive on her tender and bruised flesh _. Merlin, that smarts! Fuck! I'm young enough to be your daughter, you fucking perv,_ _just get your hands off me!_

"Ahh, you're sore, aren't you?" He whispered against her hair as he continued his assault, not slowing or softening his touch. _No shit, Sherlock!_ _And I want your filthy, fucking hands off me!_

Deciding she needed to try something…anything to make him stop, she thought maybe she could scare him off. Disgust him. Her voice sounded pained as she whispered urgently. "Yes, and I think I have the beginnings of a urinary tract _infection."_ Hermione hoped this would cause him to pull his hand away. The word infection would surely repulse him, wouldn't it? "You might not want to have sex with me, I could be contagious." Hermione continued in a rushed voice, hoping he would be clueless and accept her warning as truth.

A deep chuckle echoed from behind her as he inserted a finger and then a second and began sliding them in and out of her sore channel. She gasped, but it was an obvious reaction to pain, not pleasure. "UTI's are not contagious as I'm sure you are fully aware, Miss Granger." He slid back from her and rolled her onto her back, looking down at her. "Do not take me for a fool," he whispered with humor on his face.

Unwilling to give up, she tried a different approach, she stared up at him, her rich caramel eyes meeting his soft grey. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she pleaded. "Please stop, I'm so tender and what you're doing hurts. I'm in pain with this infection, more sex can only make it worse." She watched as she saw a flash of something in his eyes. He didn't answer right away, just watched her for a second. It was the same look he hadn't been able to hide the night before. She had forgotten about that. It gave her a glimmer of hope.

His eyes moved from hers to her lips and slid down her body before returning to her face. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. He spoke with a soothing tone, his voice quiet and non-threatening. "You will heal. You will get used to our...attentions. I recommend you urinate after our attentions from now on. The moment you are able to." He rolled on top of her, spreading her legs with his knees as he wedged himself between them. His right hand once again slid down to her folds.

"This won't take too much of your time, and then you can go back to your room and soak in the bath. I'll be gentle and you'll enjoy this, I promise." He nuzzled her neck and gave her a soft kiss on the underside of her jaw as he began fingering her and rubbing her clit interchangeably. He wasn't as rough as he had been only moments before. His other hand wedged itself between their chests where he twisted and pulled her right nipple, causing a soft grunt to leave her, before his hand began massaging her entire breast.

She closed her eyes, her forehead crinkling as she turned her face to the side, not wanting to look at him towering over her. His face was so close, his morning breath foul. His mouth ventured down her body to her breasts. His right hand continued rubbing her clit and, despite her revulsion, she could feel that familiar clenching and tension building within her. _How is this happening?_ She remembered reading that a climax was a physical response from physical stimulation, but how could her body still become so aroused when her mind hated it so much?

He spoke softly once again, as his mouth moved back up to her neck. "I want you to put your arms around me as if you are enjoying yourself, as if you want me. Respond to me the way a woman responds to a man she desires." _Are you kidding me?_ _This man is on drugs!_ She had to fight herself from laughing at the absurdity of it. She rolled her eyes with irritation as her body followed his command. As soon as her hands were on his shoulders, he continued. "I wish for you to not hold back your lovely noises, pet. I want to hear you."

Hermione felt her hands and (surprisingly, as he had not commanded it) her hips obey without her having to give conscious thought to the action. _Respond to me the way a woman responds to a man. Bloody hell._ He continued to rub and she heard herself let out a soft moan, her hips thrusting into the fingers now moving in and out of her. The tenderness had lessened, she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Her moan seemed to ignite him, evidenced by his movements becoming more aggressive. Her climax continued to build and her hips continued to writhe beneath him. "That's it," he whispered.

She felt him pull his hand away and then he shifted his hard erection to her core and begin to press into her. As he started to sheath himself in her moist heat, he let out a soft moan as his right hand moved back to her clit where continued to stimulate her furiously. Hermione couldn't stop the moans that escaped her mouth as his fingers continued to wind the coil in her belly tighter and tighter.

"That's it my little cub. Doesn't this feel good?" She refused to answer him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right. "I'll make you feel good, lioness." That infuriated her, and now she was no longer able to bite her tongue.

"Rape does not feel good, Mr. Malfoy! No matter how you go about it. Forcing an orgasm from another is still rape if she doesn't give consent." She felt him flinch and pause his movements.

He didn't say anything for a minute and then replied as he gently began his ministrations once again. He thrust his cock more deeply into her as he whispered. "We'll debate this topic later. For now, just feel. Relax, Hermione" His command to relax caused her muscles to loosen and she melted into the mattress beneath him. "That's it."

As his hands continued to probe and stimulate, her arousal continued to build. She rolled her hips with his, her hands now moving up and down his back, soothingly, like a lover's hands would. Moans began spilling from her like she was a common, alley whore. Despite being disgusted with herself, she couldn't stop.

She could feel his mouth curve up into a smile against her neck as he whispered, "Yes, see how responsive your body is? So wet, so pliant, so...accommodating?"

He began to move faster and press deeper. His words continuing to taunt her. "Mmm. You are enjoying this my little nymph. Deny it all you want, but the sex kitten in you is dying to come out." She hated to admit it and would not do so out loud, but the bastard was right. _Merlin, this felt good_. _Fight it, Hermione. What's wrong with you?_ For what seemed like the millionth time in less than fourteen hours, she wanted to cry. His commands on her body wouldn't seem to allow her to do anything but feel his length filling her, his fingers on her clit was making it sing. They forced her body to think it was pleased with his attentions. All the while her mind either begged her to fight, to throw him off, to run, to scream her protests, or to shut down and hide. She wished she could move away from the sensations, protect herself and her sanity.

Her brain continued to scream its denial all the while her body was moving with his languidly. Moans of pleasure continued to fall from her lips, louder and louder as she felt her climax building.

"That's it, kitty cat. Cum for me." Without a moment to fight it, her body convulsed and tensed with her release as she gave out a yell of pleasure. Lucius thrust hard and fast before tensing with his own release. He collapsed over her, out of breath. His hand between her legs slid up her torso to her breasts where he cupped and stroked as his breathing slowed. After a minute, he rolled off her and let out a slow breath.

He slid to the edge of the bed and swung his feet over, his back to her. He didn't look at her as he patted her hip. "Go take a hot bath and be downstairs for breakfast at eight."

Still catching her own breath and trying to come to terms with the fact she had just had another orgasm against her will, she gingerly rolled out of bed. Now that the forced pleasure had dissipated, she was so sore it was painful to sit and slide off the side of the bed. She walked towards his door wondering if it would open for her but found a glowing parchment on a table beside his door. " _Your suite for a hot bath."_ She rolled her eyes as she picked up the paper.

* * *

Hermione winced as she was Portkeyed back to her room. Still exhausted, she just wanted to sleep for another hour. Looking at her bedside clock across the suite, she could see it was only six-twenty am. She could sleep for an hour and then take a bath in time for breakfast. As she started to move towards her inviting bed, the uncomfortable anxiety once again came over her. Her heart started to beat faster as she continued to resist the command. Sweat began to form on her brow and her breathing became labored as she tried to fight the pull. Gods, she was so tired. When she was halfway across her suite she couldn't fight it any longer. The moment she resignedly turned towards the bathroom, her anxiety began to diminish. By the time she stepped into the loo, her heart rate was almost back to normal.

She sighed heavily as she stepped up to the tub. There were multiple knobs and spigots, leaving her confused. Not sure which one to turn, she selected the knob on the right. She was pleased when the tub began to fill with water magically and rapidly. Even more elated to find that the water was the perfect temperature. Curious, she turned the next knob over and was amazed when a pleasant scent of lavender began to permeate the air. It wasn't quite as extravagant as the prefect's bath at Hogwarts, but it was damn close.

She stepped back from the tub and pulled the flimsy sheath over her head. She carefully stepped into the bath and slid into the soothing water. _Merlin this feels amazing._ She relaxed back, resting her head on the lip of the tub. The luxury continued to surprise her when the lip of the tub under her neck morphed into a soft cushion. She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes allowing the warm water to soothe her tender muscles and abused vaginal and anal tissues.

She was just drifting off to sleep when Tinny appeared and grabbed Hermione's shoulder. "Master Draco sent Tinny to bring you to him right away." Before she could respond, she was side along apparated with Tinny. She landed on the floor, on her back, dripping wet and freezing. Tinny disappeared with a pop.

Furious, she rolled and slowly moved to stand as she took in the room around her with wary caution. Before she could get a real look, Draco slid out of the bed and stood before her. "No need to stand. On your knees and face me."

Unable to take it anymore, her frustration and desperation for sleep and to just be left the hell alone caused her to lash out. She was freezing, she was dripping wet, her body ached and she desperately felt like she had to pee. As her body slid back to her knees, she snapped, "Can't you just leave me the hell alone, you disgusting ferret? You're a vile sub-human piece of dung!" The minute the words left her mouth she regretted it. She looked up and saw a blaze of fury cross his face before it settled into sheer malicious joy as once again his hand reared up and slapped her across the face. The blow was so hard and she was feeling so weak, she toppled to the ground as her hand immediately raised to cradle the sting. Tears spilled form her eyes as her body immediately righted itself, still following his command to kneel.

She trembled with rage and cold as her tears betrayed her anger and spilled down her cheeks. Water from her bath continued to drip off her and goosebumps covered her flesh. Draco stepped closer and was stroking his large erection in her face. His eyes went to her nipples, rock hard from the cold. His eyes then went to her mouth. "You look so fuckable right now." She could only imagine what she looked like. Bruised and red face, swollen tear ridden eyes, blotchy skin and dripping wet. _Draco would find this attractive, the sick fuck! "_ Open up, Granger. Time for you to suck my cock."

Hermione's eyes shot up to his, her mouth about to spew out exactly where he could go shove his cock. But, the words never came and her mouth simply opened wide. "That's it, little Mudblood whore. No teeth. Use your tongue and mouth. Move back and forth over my length and make me cum."

Hermione did as commanded, taking his length into her mouth. He grabbed the back of her head and began to move his hips. _Fuck. Gross! I have Draco fucking Malfoy's cock in my mouth._ She wanted to pull away and run to the bathroom to pour bleach on her tongue. _Merlin only knows where his disgusting cock has been._

"Sssss, mmmm. That's it, my little whore. A little faster now..." His breathing became more labored. "Take it deeper into your throat...moan like the slut you are." Hermione used her tongue and moved back and forth over him. She was surprised the skin was so silky and smooth over what felt like steel.

Despite her revulsion, a throaty moan began to escape her vocal chords. This seemed to only egg him on, and he began moving his hips more aggressively, plunging his hard member to the back of her throat. Her eyes watered and she gagged as drool ran down her chin, her mouth forced into its open position. She wanted desperately to pull away, but his command wouldn't allow it. Her nose was congested and his cock kept ramming the back of her throat. _I can't breathe!_ Her gagging became more pronounced, her desperation for air causing her to panic.

Despite her obvious difficulties and discomfort, he continued pummeling her mouth. In his usual, condescending sneer he drawled. "Stop being a wimp and take it, whore. This is what your mouth was made for. This should come naturally for you." Inside her brain was screaming in protest. She wanted to bite down on him so badly, but his command had taken her free will and she continued to gag and sputter. His voice raspy, he instructed. "Stop. Open your mouth wide and stop moving."

Hermione opened her mouth wide and watched as Draco positioned his cock a couple inches in front of her face. She gasped for lungful's of air as she watched him stroke his cock before he let out a loud grunt. Hot sperm was shot into her mouth, on her cheeks, and on her breasts. When he finished ejaculating, he wiped his cock on her cheek and then slapped it on her face. "That's it, my little cum queen. Swallow what's in your mouth." _WHAT?! Oh, dear Merlin, NO_! Despite her inner protestations, her body complied. The minute she swallowed, she gagged, feeling the urge to vomit.

He stepped back from her, laughing at her reaction. "Granger, I really had no idea how entertaining you could be."

Furious, she spat on his foot. She saw stars when he grabbed the back of her head and slammed it into the bedside table she was kneeling next to. _Hermione, you idiot! Stop giving him cause to beat you and make this worse!_ She clutched her head, not giving him the satisfaction of her tears. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered with blood.

"You'd better not get your dirty blood on my rug, you bitch." He snarled. There was a short pause before an evil smile crossed his face.

"Look at me, Granger." Her eyes flew to his, her hand still pressed to the gash above her eyebrow. "Every morning you are to come here after you leave my father's suite and kneel beside my bed. When I wake – you will be waiting. You are not to wake me. I will fuck one of your orifices and then you will bathe me." He started to walk towards his bathroom. She started to stand as she wiped the dripping sperm off her face. He looked back at her. "I didn't tell you to stand. You will crawl behind me."

The anxiety of a directive not being met brought her up short. "I will get blood on the rug if I crawl." It was said urgently, fearfully, and his head whipped to her – he couldn't hide his surprise at the anxiety in her tone. When he realized what was happening, he sneered at her.

"Better figure it out, then, Mudblood. Quickly, now." He watched her, eyes glittering with amusement as she kept one hand covering her wound and moved one hand forward, then each knee followed awkwardly, then her arm again. She almost fell and he snorted with laughter. She felt like a three-legged dog.

Her knees hurt, her shoulders hurt, her pussy throbbed, and she felt like she had to pee. Utterly humiliated, she put on a stone face and made it to the bathroom. He walked past her to the toilet and stood over it. She stayed on her knees behind him as he began to urinate. He yawned as the liquid flowed. Hermione turned her head away, not wanting to smell or see his urine.

"Turn on the shower," he instructed. Hermione turned towards the shower and reached up for the knob. Unable to reach it from her kneeling position, she slowly stood and turned the knob on the right. She wasn't sure which knob to turn, as there were so many, but the right knob had worked on her tub. Warm water poured from the ceiling and the sides of the shower. It was clearly charmed to have multiple heads. "Climb in the shower and kneel."

Hermione stepped into the shower and then kneeled once again, water pouring on her from multiple angles. The blood from her head and hand ran pink. Draco stepped in. "Wash me." He commanded. Hermione couldn't see anything as water was shooting her in the face and running into her eyes from her wet hair. Her head was now pounding and the water stung her cut _._

She reached up, feeling around for soap and a flannel with her eyes closed. After a minute of fumbling around and not finding what he asked, he shoved soap and cloth into her hand. She could hear him say something derogatory by the tone of his voice, but the water was pounding her face and ears so hard, she was unable to hear his specific words.

He was standing close, his leg almost touching her. She lathered the flannel as best she could and began washing his legs. As she moved up his body she avoided between his legs, hoping he would opt to wash that himself. She washed as far up his body as she could without standing, all the while cursing him under her breath. She couldn't believe this was what her life had come to.

"I'll need to stand to wash the rest of you." She said loudly.

"You don't need to stand to wash my cock." He replied.

 _Of course, he wants me to wash his ugly prick. Asshole!_ She lathered up the washcloth and quickly wiped over his dick.

"There, finished," she declared.

"Now, now, you didn't do a very good job. My cock is still dirty. It fucked a mudblood in the arse last night and then in the mouth this morning." He looked down at her hoping for a reaction, but her eyes were closed and he wasn't even sure she could hear him. "Wash my balls and my arse," he said loudly. "Gently!"

He watched as she begrudgingly soaped up the flannel once again. He smiled down at her as she washed his sac. He turned around so she could have better access to his arse. He felt her spread his cheeks and wipe him down there as well. _I hate you, Draco Malfoy. I'm going to get you back one day. You mark my words._ She wanted to say the words out loud. She wanted him to hear her promise, but this time she held her tongue.

"Stand up, my little cum bucket. Time for my next deposit." He turned back towards her and grabbed her arm, pulling her up forcefully. "Spread your legs and bend over. Grab your ankles, and stay still."

Despite being exhausted and sore, the warm shower water was very soothing to her aching muscles. She felt like a drowned rat, but her thighs were no longer burning as she kneeled. She grimaced with frustration and had to fight back tears when he told her to stand and bend over. As soon as she was upright, his hands forced her shoulders forward and she flinched when he grabbed her arse, one hand on each cheek. She continued bending over until her ankles were firmly gripped in her hands.

His thumbs spread her opening and she felt him start to press into her. While she hated this, and wanted to scream and yell, she was thankful he wasn't sliding into her arse. He began to rub her clit and up and down her folds. "Hmm, the water is washing away your juices." At least that's what it sounded like he said.

All of a sudden, the water stopped. He continued rubbing and stimulating her. She cursed internally as she felt her arousal building once again. She couldn't believe her body would continue to betray her like this. _This can NOT be turning me on for Christ's sake!_ Humiliated, and unable to take it anymore, Hermione allowed herself to cry. Thank Merlin he couldn't see her face.

"There we go, that's better." Suddenly, he rammed into her. She let out a shriek at the brutal intrusion. A sob escaped her lips, it felt like he had shoved a white-hot branding iron up her pussy, and she no longer cared if he could hear her. She heard him start to grunt with each thrust as he ignored her distress and began to pound in and out of her mercilessly. "Your pussy is so tight." He continued moving in and out, his hands gripping her hips forcefully, holding her in place. The bruised spots already on her hips were screaming in agony and she knew new she'd have new marks when he was through. She pondered how bad her face would look now that he had slapped her once again as he continued to fuck her, plus a gash above her eye. She wished she could disappear, think about something else, but his punishing thrusts kept her in the here and now. His hands on her bruised hips were too painful. Maybe Tinny would locate some bruise paste for her. She didn't care how she looked, but the pain was jarring.

She felt a sense of relief when Draco suddenly stilled and let out a loud moan as he spilled his seed inside her. After a minute of him heavy breathing and panting over top of her, he slapped her arse, making her jump with a startled cry, and then pulled out. More pain, but she stifled it. "Nice, three holes. Each of them delightful in their own right. How's a wizard to choose?" He chuckled as he started the water once again. "Go away, Granger. I'm done with you for now."

Hermione righted herself and stepped out of the bathroom. She grabbed one of the oversized towels he had on his towel rack and wrapped up in it. It was heated and felt divine against her raw body. She stepped out his bathroom quickly, not being able to get away from him fast enough. When she walked to the door, there was a parchment waiting for her, glowing.

She picked it up and once again found herself in her own suite. She looked at her clock across the room. Seven twenty-two. Breakfast was still over thirty minutes away. She went into her bathroom and sat on her toilet. Once again, the burn of urination was intense and despite feeling like her bladder was full, she only voided a small amount. Even with the shower, she felt disgusting. She walked back over to her tub, it was still full of water - which was now ice cold _. Really?_ It was the last straw.

Unable to take even one more thing, she slipped to the floor beside the tub and sobbed, clutching the towel wrapped around her. She curled into the fetal position as she cried for her situation. She cried for her lost virginity that she had wanted to give to someone special. She cried for the pain, the UTI, the bruises, the abuse. She cried because she felt as though God had abandoned her. She cried because she was terrified she was destined to a miserable, short life. She cried because her friends were all dead. She cried because she knew she should just kill herself and then cried harder because she knew she never would.


	5. Chapter Five

**Same disclaimer as always, we own none of this and make no money from this FF.**

**AN: Same warnings as prior chapters. Abuse is a huge part of this story, _however_ , it's not the** _**only**_ **dynamic that will occur. The plot of this story is much more than what these first few chapters have shown. It's been less than 24 hours that Hermione has been with the Malfoys. We are still setting the scene and laying the ground work. :)**

 **A huge thanks to my awesome and amazingly talented co-author, _LissaDream_! Please check out our other co-authored tale, Master Mine. ** **We are having soo much fun writing these stories together. She's become such an important person in my life. Love you, LD!**

**Thanks for kudos, subscribing, bookmarking and commenting! It's the only way we know you like the story and want us to keep going!**

* * *

"Miss! Miss! Wake up, Miss." Hermione woke with a brutal start. It took her a minute to remember where she was. She slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position from the cool tile floor. The room spun as her head pounded. She was literally shaking with her fatigue…and cold. She was so cold. _Bloody fuck, I just want to sleep!_ Her hand immediately went to the gash on her forehead where she could feel dried blood and a huge knot. "Ouch," she cried out quietly. She was shivering and her teeth chattered, causing her head to hurt even more. Pulling the towel tightly around herself, she slowly got to her feet. The incredible urge to pee drew her to the toilet where she once again experienced intense burning as she emptied the small amount of urine from her bladder.

She could hear Tinny rummaging around her room but was too tired to be bothered with caring or curiosity. Despite having been drenched in Draco's shower, she felt dirty. Filthy, actually. Replaying what Draco had put her through, she shuddered with disgust. She could still feel his abusive hands on her skin, his prick touching her face. Even if she had a brillo pad, she wouldn't be able to scrub it all away.

She turned on the shower and stepped into the wonderful, hot water. Leaning against the tiled wall she relaxed as the warmth of the water seeped into her bones. She lathered up a flannel with the new bar of rose scented soap from the soap holder, quickly washing her face, neck, chest, and stomach. She winced as she gently wiped between her legs, her abused flesh was too tender to tolerate the harsh scrubbing she desired. She scrubbed down the rest of her body to her toes before lathering her hair with the provided shampoo and conditioner. _"_ _Rise and Shine Shampoo. Provides volume for limpness and shine for dullness,"_ she muttered, reading the bottle _._ She shook her head in dismay. She could only imagine what her hair would like when it was dry. The last thing her curls needed were more volume. The thought quickly left her mind however, she really didn't care how she looked.

Despite the warm water, she couldn't quite shake the chill she felt. She had barely dried off before Tinny was in her closet picking out a dress for her to wear. "Master's will want the young miss looking pretty. Young miss will wear this." Maybe if she hadn't been so tired, or if she was feeling better, she would have gasped like a normal teenage girl when the beautiful set of robes was enchanted to float in front of her. As it were, however, she wanted nothing more than to stay naked and slip between the sheets of the large four poster bed that was screaming her name.

Before she could even think about getting dressed, she needed to dry her hair and comb out the knots. As much as she hated the imposing little beast of a house elf, she could almost have kissed her when Tinny stepped into the bathroom and snapped her fingers, instantly drying Hermione's hair. Another snap, and once again the elf had done up her hair in a long, soft braid. It was such a simple thing for her to do, yet Hermione felt it was the only kind thing that had been done for her in weeks. Even if it hadn't been done for her benefit – she was certain Tinny was merely making her presentable to please her masters. She wondered if the elf might be able or willing to help her in other ways as well.

"Tinny, you wouldn't happen to have any bruise paste or pain potions, would you?"

The house elf surprised Hermione when she looked at her with sympathy. "Master Draco tells Tinny no potions for Miss. Miss is to be left as is. Only the Masters can approve potions and treatments for young Miss."

Hermione huffed in frustration even as tears pricked her eyes. She hated him. Oh, _Gods_ , she hated him. "That's okay, Tinny. Thank you."

Hermione slipped the dress on and looked at herself in the mirror. It really was stunning. It was made of a rough woven linen, dyed a deep, dark blue. Not as bright as a royal blue, but not as dark as a navy. The tops of the long, flowing sleeves capped her shoulders and dipped into a layered scoop neck. The sleeves themselves were split and flowed almost to the length of the dress hem. They were connected just above her elbow with a gold brocade. The dress itself was A-line, flowing to the floor to pool at her feet with a short train in the back. Just under her bust was a woven belt that knotted at her sternum, the tails cascading down her torso to end at the juncture of her thighs. It was similar to the colors of the brocades on the sleeves. She turned so her back was in the mirror, noticing the same scoop in the front trailed over her shoulder blades.

It was grotesque to her, wearing such a beautiful garment over a body marred with so many contusions and abrasions. The left side of her face was dark purple. She had a gash on her forehead and huge, dark circles under her eyes. She thought back and realized she had probably only slept a couple hours during the night. She remembered it being after eleven when they finished dinner. A jolt of nausea hit her as memories of all that transpired after dinner flashed through her mind. It had truly been disgusting and beyond horrendous. She felt as if it couldn't be real. It couldn't possibly have happened. This had to be just a nightmare and she'd wake up any minute. Her eyes looked at her reflection. She swallowed the hard lump of tears in her throat. _This isn't a dream Hermione._ The bruises in the mirror, the pain between her legs, and the tenderness of her entire body...it screamed the truth. She was living a true nightmare.

"Comes, Miss. Yous be late if we don'st hurry." Hermione knew the elf spoke the truth because she could feel her anxiety and heart rate climbing as her body reacted to the pull of her eight-a.m. summons.

Tinny grabbed her hand and Hermione was apparated to a beautiful, large dining room. As her vision adjusted to the change in environment, Hermione was shocked at the extravagance. The ebony table could easily sit thirty people and took up the expanse of the room, but so many other things pulled her attention. The ceiling was covered in gilded molding done in gold. A large oval mirrored the placement of the table below and three chandeliers in gold and strings of crystal threw beautiful rainbow patters of light through the room. Around the oval was an arched rectangle that met the corner molding. The walls were painted a deep navy, with the same gilded gold trim making up pillars that ran in intervals down them until it reached a rich, chiseled marble wainscoting that started at her hip level and flowed to the floor. The flooring itself was a deep, dark parqueted wood. There was an archway that led to a sideboard done in the same ebony as the table, laden with crystal goblets and a silver serving set. A huge Persian rug in greens, and golds, and blues ran underneath the length of the entire table while crystal sconces dotted the pillars at repeating intervals. At one end of the room stood an enormous stone fireplace. The most amazing part, however, were the large windows, encased in the same gilded golden trim. They let in so much beautiful, natural light that it caused the room to glow and feel warm. She imagined at night, the room would have a very different, formal feel.

Lucius and Draco were already seated, reading the Daily Prophet. Upon her entry, they both stood. Once again behaving as though they were gentlemen. Lucius was at the head of the large table on the right. Draco was positioned to his right and there was a third setting for Hermione to Lucius' left. Unfortunately, it left Hermione facing Draco. _Just don't look at him!_ It was as they had been seated the night before. When Lucius started to walk towards her chair to pull it out for her, she grabbed it and sat down quickly, scooting it back to the table before he even had a chance to assist her. She turned to him, noticing the slightly frustrated look on his face. Her tone was scathing. "Please don't bother with the charade, Mr. Malfoy, there are no gentlemen in this room."

She could hear Draco let out a snort as his father returned to his seat. "In this house, Miss Granger, good manners will not be forgotten or ignored. You will allow us to carry out the expected behaviors a gentleman bestows upon a lady in a dining room," Lucius replied with a note of condescension in his voice. He was seated and sliding his chair back towards the table as a different house elf appeared, placing a covered plate in front of her.

She couldn't help the retort which slipped from her lips. She stared at him, her expression flat. "Oh, I must have missed the chapter in _Magical Manners and Etiquette_ when it says that raping and sodomizing your guests after dinner is polite and well-mannered behavior. If _only_ I still had my copy, I could refresh my memory," she deadpanned.

She noticed the slight uptick to the corners of Lucius' mouth. Draco was chuckling from behind the Daily Prophet which he was holding up to read. "Oh, Father, she's a riot. I may have to send the Dark Lord an extra pensieve memory to thank him." Draco dropped the paper and looked at her maliciously. "He's probably looking at the memory of my morning shower right now. The least I can do is keep them coming."

Hermione's expression was full of loathing. She felt nauseated as she imagined Voldemort – or anyone, for that matter – watching her being raped. Just as that unwelcome sensation came over her, the house elf snapped his fingers, causing the three covered dishes in front of them to display what would normally be a lovely breakfast. French toast with powdered sugar and glazed strawberries, scrambled eggs, sausage, and assorted cut fruit were all displayed beautifully before her.

Draco ignored his plate, still watching her reaction. Clearly enjoying her misery, he expanded on a bit of information she had not picked up on the night before. He spoke in his signature, drawling tone. "The Dark Lord sends his regards, by the way. He and his…guests enjoyed the show you put on last night. You remember the mirror?" He paused, waiting for her reaction. A slight frown pulled down the corners of his mouth when she refused to even look at him. "Anyway, it was charmed. Because of it, many were able to take in your…. _charms._ "

 _What?_ Hermione could practically feel the color drain from her face. Her cheeks heated with mortification as she remembered what Draco had done to her in front of that mirror. She closed her eyes, fighting the anger and the rage boiling. Trembling as she remembered more. _Not just what he did to you, but what he made you do to yourself!_ Completely horrified, it took all her strength and determination to maintain her restraint. She wanted to jump across the table and strangle him. She wanted to kill him. She never thought herself capable of killing, but now? Now she was positive that she could.

She knew better, though. She was no match for these two wizards. Not only were they physically stronger than her, they had wands. She was sick, exhausted, and had _no_ wand. Draco would beat her or hex her to a pulp. She took a deep breath and looked up, meeting his eyes straight on. Her expression was flat, betraying no emotion. _Fuck you, you piece of shit!_ _You will not get a rise out of me!_ Under the table, she dug the nails of her right hand into the palm of her left as she imagined his eyes being gauged out of his evil head.

A malevolent smile on his face, his eyes stayed on hers. It was a play for Dominance between them. After a minute, he rolled his eyes and laughed knowingly. Picking up his fork, he began to eat.

She continued to stare at him. He ate as though he didn't have a care in the world. She looked away with disgust. She had no appetite and would not even look her plate, staring into her lap instead. She could hear cutlery on plates as the wizards at the table enjoyed their beautiful breakfast with vigor.

"Aren't you hungry, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked softly as he wiped his mouth with a beautifully embroidered linen napkin.

Hermione didn't look at him and replied with a note of hostility. "Strangely, my appetite has vanished." She could feel Lucius' eyes on her.

"Miss, Granger, look at me." His voice had a note of concern as he made his demand, not unkindly.

Having no choice, Hermione moved her eyes to his. She watched as he took in the sight of her face, eyes lingering on the gash over her eyebrow and the large bruise on her left cheek. Being that she was sitting on his left, he was probably just now really seeing it for the first time. It had been rather dark in his room earlier. Besides, Draco had slapped her again since then. The bruise was much more obvious now.

She was surprised to see what looked like worry and a touch of disbelief on his face. The expression morphed quickly into one of indifference as he cleared his throat and shot a contemplative look at Draco before picking up his fork and shoving a bite of egg into his mouth. He seemed to be deep in thought as he continued his meal.

Hermione kept her eyes on him as he had yet to tell her otherwise. She felt tears spring to her eyes in frustration. Being controlled like this was awful. Not having free reign of what her body did was unbearable. Unable to take it anymore, she asked through clenched teeth, "Mr. Malfoy, may I please have permission to look elsewhere?"

He stopped chewing and looked at her in surprise. It took a second for comprehension to hit. "Yes, yes. Of course." He waved his fork lightly as he continued. "Please, feel free to look around, wherever suits you." She immediately moved her eyes to her lap again as a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. She wiped it discreetly, but couldn't help it as another escaped, and another. _Merlin, but she was exhausted_. She was not a crier, not normally, anyhow.

"Jeez, Granger. What the fuck are you crying about now? No one's even touching you!" Hermione looked up into the sneering face of the man she hated more than anyone in the whole world. Draco was looking at her with impatience and rolled his eyes as he went back to his paper and his breakfast. She chanced a glance at Lucius, catching yet another concerned look on his face before he quickly returned to his paper, as well.

Hermione didn't answer Draco. Instead, she moved her focus back to her lap and tried to calm her emotions. In a way, the ferret was right. _Stop crying, Hermione! Enough of the self-pity!_ She let out a sigh and picked up her fork, realizing that starving herself would only make her feel worse. She took a bite of the French toast, it practically melted in her mouth. She forced herself to eat slowly, as she suddenly felt starved once the first bite had dissolved. After she finished a piece of toast and couple bites of egg, she found she couldn't eat anymore. Not only that, her fatigue was dragging her down. She just wanted to go to her room and sleep _. I know I would feel stronger if I could just rest._

It was a short-lived possibility. She heard the sound of rustling papers and looked up to see both wizards put down their newspapers. She hoped they had activities to occupy themselves that did not involve her.

"So, I have my morning board meeting at Malfoy Enterprises and then a lunch meeting at the ministry." Lucius' eyes were only on Draco. The older Malfoy didn't even spare Hermione a glance. "What are your plans for the day?"

Draco shrugged indifferently. "Not much to do today, really. Pans said she might come over, but I don't really have the energy. She's an _animal_." Draco said the last part with a smirk directed at Hermione.

Lucius sighed heavily. "Really Draco. One would think you were raised in the gutter. Must you talk in such a way?"

Draco grinned. "Well, I just want Granger over there to feel at home."

Lucius tossed his white linen napkin on the table as he stood. "See if Severus can make us some more bruise paste. I believe we are out." He paused looking at Hermione. "Clearly, we will be needing more."

Draco stood. "I'll see if he and his _pet_ can stop by for a visit. I'm sure Granger would love to see her old Professor." He looked at Hermione. "Wouldn't you, Mudblood?"

* * *

Draco started to walk away from the table and Hermione stayed still and quiet. She simply wanted to be forgotten. She would go to her room, hell she would sleep right here in this chair.

"Come along, little Mudblood. We wouldn't want you to get bored."

Hermione internally whimpered and then warily stood. Her lower back was really starting to hurt and her legs were aching – not to mention the UTI. Draco was walking fast, her legs struggled to keep up with the pace he set.

He looked back at her with impatience. "Merlin, you're slow. Keep up!"

She rubbed her cool arms as her legs began to move faster on their own accord. She followed for what seemed like forever. They walked down a long hall and passed what looked like a library and then a large, cavernous room. A ballroom perhaps? She spotted a narrow set of stairs on her left that led upstairs. Draco kept straight as they passed more closed doors before making a left and leading her down another long hallway. _Merlin, this place is monstrous_. She would need a map if she were ever allowed to wander. _Allowed to wander?_ She internally shuddered at the frustration of that thought.

After passing more rooms and closed doors, and taking one flight of steps up at some point, they finally came to a room Hermione recognized. _The Drawing Room_. She instinctively reached for her forearm where the scar spelled out 'Mudblood' in small writing. She had nightmares about this room and what had happened in it. It was ironic that the room no longer held her worst memories. She had been tortured in this room, yes, but she had escaped. She had been rescued. She had been with her friends and Dobby had…

Her eyes began to well at the memory of the loss of Dobby. Merely weeks later, she had lost Harry and Ron as well. A tear escaped and she wiped it quickly.

"Ah, yes. I see you remember." She looked up to find him watching her curiously, a slight leer on his face. Hatred once again overtook anguish, and she stared back at him defiantly.

His leer turned into a malicious smile as he met her mutinous eyes. He then laughed, like he was amused. "Oh, Granger. You are just too easy to goad." Looking away, he let out a sigh as he walked to an area in front of the fireplace. He gestured around the room. "The entire marble floor needs a good polishing. This spot right here, though? It just won't come clean."

He looked up at her, mock frustration and concern on his face. "The floors in this room are beautiful, don't you think?" His eyes shot to the expanse of marble at his feet. "So, it's unfortunate this spot is marred with a blood stain. Mudblood blood to boot." A false comprehension came over him as he mocked her. "Oh, that's right! It's _your_ filthy blood that has permeated this floor and will not come up."

He shook his head, looking at the floor again, and spoke as though he were at a loss. "Mudblood blood is just like the Mudblood it comes from. _Impossible_ to completely eradicate…sort of like…," He looked back up, his grey cool eyes meeting her fawn brown. "…cockroaches, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione closed her eyes, once again forcing herself to maintain control. Her body trembled with suppressed rage. If she lashed out, he would beat her or kill her. She needed to keep a cool head. _Ignore him, Hermione!_

"Tinny!"

Hermione's eyes flew open as the small elf popped into the room. She bowed low. "Master, Draco…sir."

"Tinny, the Mudblood needs to clean her mess. Provide her with cleaning cloths, soap, and water." He looked back at Hermione. "You will clean the floor focusing on the stain, and then you will clean the rest of the floor, every nook and cranny. Twice. After that, you will polish it. If you finish before someone comes to fetch you, you will polish again. And again. I want this floor to shine." He started to step away. "I will come for you later or I will send Tinny. You are to continue cleaning and polishing until you are retrieved. I _will_ inspect your work."

He watched her for a reaction, cocking his head to the side slightly. When none came, he continued. "Let's hope you are still the hard worker and over achiever you used to be, or you will serve…a detention?" He smiled at is joke. "I like that. Detention for Miss Granger. It has a nice ring to it."

He started to leave the room but stopped and looked back at her, as though he had suddenly remembered something. "Oh, and I'd hate for you to ruin that dress. So, I think you should take it off." He watched with glee as she sighed, unzipping the dress behind her and letting it fall to the floor before stepping out of it. He just couldn't humiliate her enough.

Unbeknownst to him however, it didn't faze her at all. What was the point of upsetting herself because she was unclothed? It wouldn't bother her anymore, not after the past sixteen hours of her life _. God, is that all it had been?_ She was left standing in a nude colored lace bra and panty set. His eyes blatantly ogled her chest and then moved between her legs. He rearranged his crotch slightly and sighed. "Sorry, darling. I really need to save my energy for Pans." His eyes shot up to hers. "But I'll let you fuck me tonight if you ask nicely."

And then he was gone. He turned and apparated, leaving her alone with the house elf. The elf picked up her dress and said, "Tinny will be right back." With a pop, Hermione was alone. She looked around, taking in the vast, cold room. The last time she had been here, she hadn't really had the chance to look around. She snorted at the thought. Writhing on the floor in utter, awful, unending agony makes you fairly unobservant.

The room was large and had been cleared of all furniture and rugs. Most likely this was so she could do her "job" properly. The marble floor was black, veined with greens and blues and creams. It was cold, dark, and unfeeling. She figured they must be at one corner of the Manor because there were windows facing the South and East. Huge, latticed windows, framed in white, that went from floor to ceiling and streamed in the morning light. She counted ten. Feeling grateful she didn't have to clean them, she continued to look around. The walls were wallpapered with silk that picked up the greens and blues in the floor. They were trimmed at the ceiling and floor with white woodwork. Interspersed throughout the room were massive, white, ornate, stone pillars. The marble of these pillars was white, veined with cream and silver. They had square bases.

Opposite of the East windows was a balcony done in the same white marble of the pillars. On the opposite side of the opening was another balcony. It was one story up and carved from what looked like a darkly stained mahogany. She moved over to the lower balcony and realized it looked over the ballroom. Turning back to the drawing room, she looked up. The ceilings had to be at least twenty feet high. They were plastered with an ornate geometric design, and stamped. She craned her head back further and smiled. Her first genuine smile in days. She would never forget that ginormous chandelier for the rest of her life. A circular, black wrought iron piece with huge, glass sconces. It was a shame they had been able to repair it. She would have liked to see something of the room permanently destroyed because of them.

She looked to her right _. Yes, I remember you_. The ornate, white marble fireplace was massive and beautifully carved. It needed to be in order to fit the room. It was bookended with double pillars which were smaller than the massive ones scattered through the room. They supported a thick, deep mantle. Then, the pillars continued from the top of the mantle all the way to the ceiling. She remembered staring into it as Bellatrix had tortured her. The walls held portraits, some of them clearly very old. She felt exposed as the figures within them began moving amongst the frames. She could hear their whispering. As her eyes scanned the paintings, she froze when she saw a face she recognized. The thin, pale face, blue eyes, and blonde hair of Narcissa Malfoy watched her for a moment before turning away. She exited the portrait completely.

Hermione paused, wondering about the matriarch witch. She didn't know how Narcissa had died. She hadn't even known the witch was dead until the day before. There was the unmistakable pop of Tinny's arrival, then, and her thoughts were pulled from the portraits.

"Tinny has brought Miss cleaning cloths, bucket with warm water, soaps, towels, and polishing cloths." The elf set the items on the floor in front of Hermione and then watched her, curiously. Hermione let out a huff and then dropped to her knees. The dark marble floor was cold and hard and she knew it would wreck her knees. She tucked a cloth under each knee and then picked up a third, dipping it in the bucket.

Tinny gave her a contemplative look and then snapped her fingers, turning the cloths under Hermione's knees into small pillows. Hermione let out a gasp and looked at the small elf. Tinny was watching her without expression, but her ears were twitching. Hermione smiled at her. "Tinny, thank you."

With a pop, she was gone. Hermione looked at the floor in front of her, focusing on the spot Draco had eluded to. She couldn't see how the floor in that spot looked any different from the rest. She soaped up the rag and began to wipe the floor. When she pulled the cloth back, it was still perfectly white. The floor didn't even have dirt on it. She huffed in irritation as she got to work.

* * *

It seemed like hours later when Hermione heard voices. Her face was wet with perspiration, her body moist with its exertion, and she could smell her own sweat from the hard labor. Draco's command had given her body no choice but to scrub hard. Her shoulders, arms, and back ached and screamed in protest. The hair from her braid that was touching her skin was saturated. Despite this, she was so cold. Absolutely freezing. Chills had wracked her body consistently for the last hour. Gods, she needed to sleep. Just to rest for a little bit.

" _Granger's_ here? Why?" The unmistakable, nasal voice of Pansy Parkinson echoed from the hallway, her tone incredulous.

"The Dark Lord _gave_ her to father and me to use as we please." Draco's voice was haughty and bragging.

Hermione heard their footsteps and voices coming closer.

"Well, what do you _do_ with her? What use could _she_ possibly be?"

"Oh, this and that." He responded with a bored tone. "You know, we've only had her since last night."

When she heard the sound of their shoes on the marble floor right behind her, she turned to see the shocked face of Pansy. "Draco, where are her _clothes_?" Pansy didn't acknowledge Hermione and didn't look her in the eye. She was too busy taking in Hermione's appearance. Hermione stood on her knees and looked down at herself. The skin-tone lingerie was practically see through now that it was wet. Her nipples were plain as day.

"No point in her ruining a perfectly good dress, Pans."

Pansy kept staring, her mouth hanging open. Then, comprehension dawned on her unremarkable features. Pansy's eyes shot to Draco. "Are you _fucking_ her?" she screeched. Hermione winced at the awful sound, but smirked when she noticed Draco's shoulders had tightened imperceptibly.

Draco shot Pansy a bored look as he waved his wand at Hermione. Hermione had been about to answer Pansy's question in the affirmative when she found she couldn't speak. _Damn it!_ Draco had cast a silencing spell on her!

His voice sounded offended. "Fuck _that_? Are you kidding?" His voice purred as he looked at Pansy adoringly. "Now Pans. Why would I touch that, when I have _you_?"

Pansy, her brain clearly as vacuous as Hermione had always assumed, smiled shyly at Draco, blushing. "Well, you can't blame a girl for asking."

"Oh, Pans. You're the only witch for me." He smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "Didn't what we just share in my room prove that?"

Pansy's blush deepened and she smiled. "Yes, that was lovely."

She sighed and looked back at Hermione. "Still, can't you at least give her a _pillowcase_ or something?" Draco laughed loudly, clearly finding tremendous humor in that question.

"What a great idea, Pans." He turned back towards Hermione, eyes sparkling evily. "Tinny!" he called out.

Tinny appeared with a pop. "Tinny, bring the Mudblood a pillowcase to wear."

Tinny's face flashed with a look of incredulity and then quickly changed to indifference. "Yes, Master Draco." She left with a pop.

While the elf was gone, Pansy hesitantly walked towards Hermione, looking her up and down. "Well, she's really a skinny little thing, isn't she?" She let out a huff and stood taller, looking down her nose at the Muggle-born witch. "Stand up, Mudblood."

Hermione looked at Draco to see him nod and then stood. She was so sore and stiff from being on her knees for so long that she hobbled and almost tripped. Pansy's hand shot out to steady her, but dropped Hermione's arm instantly at the contact. Her eyes widened and flew back to Draco's face. "She's positively burning up, Draco!" Wiping her hand on her skirt as if it were now covered with an infection, she stepped back. "She has a fever!" She turned away, walking to the other side of the room quickly. "Oh Merlin, what if she's _contagious_?"

Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to face the blonde pureblood. "Pans, why don't we leave the Mudblood to her chores. We'll go outside in the garden; would you like that?" Pansy agreed demurely and they started to leave, saying nothing else to her. Neither even turned to look at her as they left.

As soon as they departed, Tinny reappeared with another pop, handing Hermione a pillow case that had been quickly altered to have a hole for her head and arms. She shrugged and slipped it on. At least she was more covered, maybe it would help warm her. After Tinny disapparated again, she got back to polishing the floor.

* * *

Hermione wanted to collapse. Without a clock, she couldn't be sure, but it _had_ to have been upwards of seven or eight hours since Draco had brought her here. She hardly had the strength to wipe her brow with her arm, but just managed. Beyond exhausted, she had a hard time focusing her vision and her body was so sore she almost couldn't move. To stave off the force of the slave binding, she persisted in small circles, scooting forward slowly to each new section. She had completed the scrubbing twice, as directed. The polishing work was done, but because of the binding, she was on round three of it. Draco had said she must work until he or Tinny retrieved her.

"Tinny!" she called out for the millionth time. Frustration coursed through her when no sound emerged. _Fucking little ferret forgot to lift the silencing charm!_ She wanted to scream and yell but she couldn't. She wanted to break something but she could hardly move. Too exhausted to cry, and frankly cried out anyway, she simply went back to cleaning, the bond giving her no choice.

Hearing footsteps approach, she looked up hopefully, only to see Lucius looking down at her with a confused expression. It wasn't Draco coming to retrieve her, so her body was forced back to work. Her shoulders and arms were so weak, she could barely move the cloth on the floor. Her head drooped, as her neck and shoulders didn't have the strength to hold it up. Her gaze stayed on the floor beneath her.

"Miss Granger, stop."

Without the compulsion of the slave bond, Hermione felt her utter fatigue even more cruelly. She collapsed in a heap at the blessed command to stop and whimpered silently at the new torment coursing through her.

"What is going on here? Why was she left like this? Where is Draco?" Lucius' eyes quickly darted from Hermione to the house elf.

Tinny's voice shook and she cowed at the anger displayed and the sharp voice of her master. "Tinny was told to leave young Miss be until Tinny was told to comes get her, Master Lucius."

Lucius looked back at Hermione, his eyes taking in the pillowcase she was wearing and shaking his head. "Hermione, why didn't you call for Tinny? Clearly you needed to stop. She could have sent word to Draco."

Hermione looked up at him, embarrassed and agonized. "I couldn't!" she exclaimed, only no sound came out.

Tinny let out a small gasp.

Lucius looked horrified for a split second before concealing it behind a mask of stone. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he cursed. He waved his wand at Hermione. She touched her throat. "I tried to call, but..." Her voice sounded very weak and raspy. She closed her eyes. There was no way she was going to be able to get up from the floor.

Lucius looked back at Tinny, not waiting for Hermione to finish her sentence. "Get her cleaned up and dressed. Severus will be arriving soon for dinner." He sighed looking back at Hermione, shaking his head. "Give her pepper up of you have to. I need to find Draco."

* * *

Tinny had Hermione cleaned, shaved, buffed and primped in no time. Hermione didn't bother fighting it, she didn't even speak. She was simply a doll, a rag doll, being moved from here to there, being prevailed upon. Tinny had, indeed, made Hermione drink the pepper up potion. It made her more alert but did nothing for her tormented body.

The elf put the same dress on Hermione that she had worn for breakfast, only she added a silk overlay that matched the vibrant blue perfectly. It draped over the dress beautifully, like a robe. It had clearly been made for this very purpose. The dress looked much more formal, now, and when the elf placed a beautiful choker on her neck with a large sapphire as a charm, the look was complete. Hermione couldn't help but do a double take in the mirror. She still looked tired, and her face still had the nasty bruises and cut above her eye, but she looked fairly presentable, considering.

The elf grabbed her hand. Once again, the pull of Apparition caused Hermione to flinch. It was so much more comfortable and natural when one Apparated oneself as opposed to being side-alonged.

Hermione opened her eyes and found herself in a sitting room. It had a masculine feel with its dark leather furniture, bookshelves, and earth colored wall coverings and draperies. Lucius stood beside the large fireplace, a fire raging within. The sound of wood popping pulled Hermione's mind away, taking her to happier memories of sitting by the fire in Gryffindor. Her attention was quickly pulled back to the present when Draco and Severus both stood upon her arrival. Draco had been sitting in a wingback chair to the right of the fireplace and Severus on the large sofa facing the mantle.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Come have a seat." Lucius spoke gesturing to the other end of the sofa from where Severus had been sitting. Hermione slowly walked towards the three wizards, her focus on the floor in front of her. She was willing herself not to collapse. Her legs were trembling. They were so sore and the heels Tinny had put on her were impossibly high. Wobbling a little, she made her way around the sofa and sat gingerly.

She didn't make eye contact with any of them, keeping her eyes on the floor. She had no wish to speak or interact. That included doing so with her old professor. She could feel his eyes on her, but would not give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. It was his fault she was in this horrible position, he was the one who had created the awful binding potion.

It was a movement and a small gasp that grabbed her attention. It came from the floor to the left of Snape's feet. Hermione chanced a glance from her peripheral vision. A flash of red hair surprised her and forced her to turn her head all the way. Her jaw fell open, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. There on the floor, kneeling at the Professor's feet, was none other than Ginny Weasley.


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again, we own none of this.**

**This chapter starts to bring more of the plot into play. This story is about more than just abuse and this chapter begins to reflect that. We hope you like it.**

**LissaDream and I are co-writing this as well as Master Mine. Please check it out if you haven't already done so!**

**Please comment! Your thoughts help guide our approach. :)**

* * *

Hermione tuned out the wizards conversing and stared at her red-haired friend in complete shock. _Severus' pet is Ginny?!_ She had been so sure no one else survived. Judging by Ginny's tear-filled eyes, she must have thought the same. Their brown eyes stayed glued to each other and spoke volumes while their mouths stayed silent. Hermione's eyes welled. This time, they were welcome tears. Tears of joy. _Thank God, you're alive!_ She wiped her eyes nonchalantly and quickly, hoping Draco hadn't noticed for fear of another scathing remark. _Please don't let him humiliate me in front of Ginny!_

Hermione noticed a tear slide down Ginny's cheek. Only, her expression looked concerned, her forehead crinkling as her gaze was on Hermione's bruised cheek and then the gash over her eye. _Of course, she's concerned. Merlin, I'm a sight._ Hermione scanned Ginny up and down, looking for bruises and injuries. She was pleasantly shocked to find Ginny looked...radiant. Her pale skin didn't have a mark or a bruise. Her eyes were bright and she looked healthy. Clearly Snape was taking good care of her, or was healing her. The latter was probably more likely. Why was she kneeling on the floor, though? She was to the left of Snape's feet, but facing the settee area and therefore facing the others in the room.

Hermione's gaze shot from Ginny up into the dark eyes of Snape, shocked to find him staring right at her. His expression was flat, his posture straight and rigid, his attire was his usual black robes. As usual, the man was a closed book. Hermione looked away quickly, not wanting him probing her mind, seeing the humiliation and the abuse she had suffered. He would probably enjoy it and she refused to give him the satisfaction.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Tinny appeared with a tray of drinks. The house elf served Hermione a glass of something red before serving Ginny the same and then whiskey for the wizards. Hermione sniffed the glass, stunned to find it was cranberry juice. Her eyes went to Tinny, who met hers with a knowing look before disappearing with a pop. Hermione sipped the juice and felt a surge of warmth for the little elf. That was three times today Tinny had done something nice for her. Hermione remembered Madam Pomfrey had make her drink cranberry juice when she had her UTI all those years ago. Cranberries are very good for the kidneys, or so Madam Pomfrey had insisted.

Hermione wanted to speak to Ginny, but there was nothing she wanted to say in front of the wizards in the room. It seemed Ginny either felt the same way or had been instructed not to speak. The young women chanced frequent glances at each other as the conversation about Voldemort's reign occupied the wizard's conversation. Hermione found herself curious and listened. She had been so out of touch since the battle. She really knew nothing more than the Order had lost and everyone she cared about was dead. Her eyes looked at Ginny once again. _Not everyone is dead. Ginny's alive._ She closed her eyes and gave a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God there was. She may be bonded to monsters, but her friend was alive. Tinny seemed to not be so horrible, either. Things were bad. Actually, things were horrendous. Suddenly, though, there was hope.

Draco's slow, drawling, arrogant tone made Hermione's skin crawl. "Father, I forgot to tell you. Aunt Bella owled. It seems she was given her very own pet as well." Hermione felt his eyes slowly move to her as he spoke. She refused to look at him in return. "This morning. Neville Longbottom." Draco chuckled with amusement. Hermione resisted the gasp that threatened to escape and looked at Ginny. Ginny met Hermione's gaze, both their eyes conveying their surprise. _Ginny, Neville...who else is alive?_ After a moment's thought Hermione shuddered. Poor Neville. Bellatrix was likely torturing him, maybe even literally to death.

Draco continued. "Severus, you were lucky to be gifted a _pure blood_ witch, even if she _is_ a blood traitor." He stared at Ginny as he took a slow breath. "Then again, the Dark Lord gave you the pick of the litter the evening after the battle, so of course you chose her over the other...options."

Severus nodded. "Yes, the Dark Lord wanted the bonding potion tested promptly. I chose Miss Weasley for the simple reason she was the _least_ irritating of my options." He spoke with that same voice and tone Hermione had endured for six years. It had once been a lovely voice, at least when it wasn't spewing insults and incendiary comments. It was a voice she had trusted, despite Harry and Ron's warnings. _You were a fool, Hermione._

She reflected more on what she had just heard. Ginny had been with Snape since that first night? Hermione looked at Ginny once again. _If only I could talk to her!_

Draco's eyes moved to Ginny. He licked his lips. "So, Severus. How about a little witch on witch fun? Or perhaps you'd let me have a go with Red? I'd offer you Granger in return, but father thinks the Dark Lord might be serious about making her a Malfoy. He doesn't want to share her until we're certain." Draco's tone clearly conveyed that he disagreed with his father.

Hermione looked at the quiet older Malfoy, who said nothing, but had a contemplative expression before smirking and then finally speaking. His speech was slow, like Draco's, yet for some reason it was monumentally less irritating. "Really, Draco. The Dark Lord can get you more...conquests, I'm sure. Certainly, you don't want other wizards to have touched your bride should a marriage ever come to pass?" Lucius glanced at Severus. Hermione looked at Severus as well, finding his expression unchanged.

Severus slowly moved his gaze from Lucius to Draco. "While a little witch on witch _fun –_ as you call it – might be something your adolescent cravings desire, I have no need or inclinations towards such activities." He took a sip of his whiskey, face remaining impassive. "I…do…not… _share_."

Draco shrugged and laughed. "Ok, Sev. Clearly you old men have forgotten how to have a good time." His eyes moved from Hermione to Ginny. "I, on the other hand, have quite an imagination and can picture these two perfectly." Hermione could sense a very slight tension in Severus as Draco's eyes continued to lasciviously scan up and down Ginny as he slowly sipped his drink. Snape's reaction was subtle. If Hermione hadn't been sitting on the same sofa as Severus, she probably wouldn't have noticed.

Ginny and Hermione once again looked at each other, relieved, as the conversation continued.

Lucius changed the subject. "Severus, tell me, has the Dark Lord discussed the move into Ireland with you?"

Draco scoffed. "He's got much bigger aspirations than just Ireland. He was discussing Germany with Bella."

Lucius and Severus exchanged glances. Hermione wondered if perhaps Draco knew more than the two older wizards. As the men continued discussing Voldemort's plan of European domination, Hermione began to feel tired. The pepper up potion was clearly starting to fade.

The male house elf from breakfast appeared with a pop. "Dinner is served, Master Lucius." The elf was bowing, his nose almost touching the floor.

Hermione was grateful when Lucius stepped forward quickly to assist her to her feet. He then offered his arm to lead her into the dining room. His earlier order from breakfast took matters out of her hands, forcing her to - _what was it he had said? "You will allow us to carry out the expected behaviors a gentleman bestows upon a lady in a dining room."_

Hermione was simply glad it was Lucius leading her, and not Draco. They walked through a door she had not noticed, which led straight into the dining room from breakfast. Looking around the room, Hermione found the dining room did, in fact, look very different at night. It was formal, elaborate, and imposing. Without the light coming through the windows, and only darkness displayed in those giant spaces, the room had lost the warmth from earlier. It was grandiose, but it wasn't what she would call comfortable or inviting.

Lucius pulled her same chair out and she sat, allowing him to scoot her chair in as the compulsion once again gave her no choice. This time Draco sat to her left and Ginny was seated directly across from her, where Draco had sat for breakfast. Snape was to Ginny's right, directly across from Draco. Lucius, once again, sat at the head of the table to Hermione's right.

As at breakfast, covered plates were levitated in front of them. This time it was Tinny and the male elf working together. Hermione's head was beginning to become fuzzy with exhaustion. She knew she should be starving, but all she wanted was to sleep and for the discomfort from the UTI to go away. Her lower back was really starting to throb and her arms and shoulders were tender. Not to mention she had a raging headache.

The covers were lifted off the plates revealing Beef Wellington, scalloped potatoes, and assorted roasted vegetables. It smelled delicious. Hermione slowly began to eat as the wizards at the table continued talking about Voldemort.

Severus swallowed and wiped his mouth with the gray, linen napkin. A napkin which matched the stunning china. The coloring of the china was whites, stormy greys, and blues. The scene depicted all white magical creatures: unicorns, white peacocks and few Hermione wasn't familiar with. The animals moved on the plate. It wasn't something Hermione had ever seen before.

Hermione's thoughts were pulled from the dishes as she heard Severus discussing Voldemort's latest consideration about venturing into the private sector. Apparently, the megalomaniac was contemplating opening whore houses as well as some other businesses. The wizards all seemed to find this to be an exceptional idea and spoke of the despot as though he were a genius.

A vision came into Hermione's mind and before she could stop herself she let out a bark of laughter, which led into a genuine belly laugh. Tears pooled in her eyes and her belly ached from laughing so hard. She had no control over herself and could not stop laughing. The wizards at the table all looked at her in stunned silence. Ginny's eyes were large, a touch of fear in them. Clearly, Ginny thought Hermione had gone mad. Perhaps she had, but it was just so darn funny.

Lucius spoke first. "What in Circe's name has you laughing so hard, Miss Granger?!"

Hermione had to pant to control her breathing and give herself a chance to get the words out. She recited what was rolling around in her head like a game show host. "Voldemart! For all your less than ethical needs. Veritaserum? We got it. Lust potion? It's on special! Need a quick shag? We rent witches by the minute for your convenience. Shop Voldemart today!" She took a breath and then laughed again as she continued. "World domination, one convenience store at a time!" She barely got the last word out as she began to guffaw with laughter once again. She could see Ginny's jaw hanging open and Lucius and Draco looking at her...Draco with irritation, Lucius with concern. Hermione realized that she was absolutely punch drunk with her fatigue. With three of the four other magical folk at the table being pure blooded, it was very likely they all thought her mad.

Snape however…Snape was watching her with a twinkle in his eyes. She could see the corners of his lips twitching. He was clearly trying to maintain control. Being the only one at the table besides Hermione who had any idea what a convenience store was, he was most likely the only one who realized how clever the joke had been. _Is he really trying not to laugh? That would be so out of character for him._

"Stop laughing!" Draco snapped.

Hermione let out a hiccough as her mouth clamped shut and her laughter stopped abruptly. She dabbed her eyes with her napkin as she felt herself slowly regain control.

Draco continued. "You're ridiculous, Mudblood. A pathetic excuse for a witch. You sit here all evening and say nothing at all. When you do decide to deign us with your input, you start laughing like a mad woman and talk absolute gibberish." Everyone was quiet as he added another jab. "Intelligent? There's nothing intelligent about you. You only received good grades because you could spew back out what you read. It was never because you had an original thought." He sneered at her as he continued. "But you never fooled me and you never fooled Severus." He looked across the table. "Did she, Godfather?"

Snape's gaze moved from Draco to Hermione, his eyes somehow slightly softer, but his words were as expected. "Yes, Draco. Miss Granger has a skill of being able to recite verbatim what she reads."

He looked back at Draco. "While irritating, it's not the worst of abilities. She still far exceeds the abilities of those buffoons, Crabbe and Goyle."

Hermione couldn't help the slight disappointment she felt when Snape called her irritating. Saying she had more ability that Crabbe and Goyle was hardly a compliment. She moved the food around her plate. For some reason, despite it all, his opinion mattered to her. She was a fool to care. Any appetite which had returned moments before was now gone. She couldn't help it as a yawn escaped. She covered her mouth, but Draco noticed and was quick to comment.

"Really, you have no manners. You're pathetic." Draco had opened his mouth to continue insulting her but the voice of Lucius interrupted the string of insults.

"I believe that's enough for now, Draco. Let Hermione eat her dinner in peace."

Draco huffed. "Whatever. I'll teach you manners, Granger. You'll learn."

The table remained quiet as Draco began eating again. Hermione looked at Lucius. He was watching her. While his expression was not friendly, it wasn't threatening, either. She realized then and there that, between the two, Lucius was the least dangerous. Perhaps there was something in him that was human. Perhaps... _Who are you kidding, Hermione! He's Lucius Malfoy. The same Lucius who stole your virginity less than twenty-four hours ago._ _Stop trying to find a silver lining. There isn't one._

Hermione glanced across the table at Ginny. Concern and worry was evident on her friend's face. She offered Ginny a small, reassuring smile. The redhead's eyes welled with tears at her friend's bravery and Hermione looked away. She was done crying. It accomplished nothing.

"Eat your dinner, Hermione." Lucius ordered. Hermione picked up her fork and began taking the unwelcome bites into her mouth.

"Yes, Ginny, you as well. You've barely touched your food." Hermione could see Ginny pick up her fork as well and follow Snape's instruction.

Fifteen minutes later everyone was finished eating as Hermione struggled to put the last bite in her mouth. She was so full, but Lucius' order gave her no choice but to eat everything on her plate. Snape had allowed Ginny to stop when he felt she had eaten enough. Unfortunately, Lucius and Draco didn't have the same consideration for her as Snape obviously did for Ginny. Hermione determined she would speak to Tinny and request smaller servings if possible.

After she swallowed her last bite, Draco spoke. " _Finally!_ " he exclaimed. _"_ I don't think you could have eaten much slower."

Lucius started to stand. "Let's retreat back to my study. I have instructed Bilby to lay out coffee, brandy, and petit fours."

Hermione made note of the elf's name. _Bilby_. She attempted to stand, but her legs and back ached so much, she couldn't get out of the chair. Another attempt had her slowly move to her feet, wobbling and grimacing in pain. She felt Draco's eyes on her and internally flinched for the insult she knew was coming. Only, he didn't speak. Instead he grabbed her arm roughly and jerked her to follow behind him. She stumbled and almost fell, but Lucius was right behind her. His strong hands gripped her waist, righting her as Draco looked back with a scowl. She took a tentative step forward, still shaking when her knee suddenly made a creaking sound and a sharp pain overtook her. She let out a gasp.

Draco sighed and stopped walking. He rolled his eyes, looking at his father, his right hand still gripping her left arm. "I think we've broken our new toy already, Father. She was supposed to be so strong, but look at her." He directed his next comment at Hermione. "You are pathetically weak. Such a fucking let down."

Lucius placed his hand over Draco's tight grip on her arm. "She's not broken, Draco. Nor is she weak. She's merely exhausted after having cleaned the floors in the drawing room a half  dozen times today." There was a note of scolding in the older man's voice that caused Hermione to look at him in interest. Was he defending her?

Draco released Hermione's arm. "Whatever. I wonder if we can trade her in."

Lucius stood beside Hermione as Draco walked ahead. Hermione noticed that Ginny was walking behind Severus and a few paces to his left. It seemed to be by design, because she maintained that exact distance and position behind him when his pace changed and when he moved through the door.

Her thoughts were pulled from Ginny when Lucius spoke quietly, his tone formal. "If you would like, Miss Granger, you are welcome to retire for the evening." He wasn't looking at her with kindness; he was merely presenting her with an option.

Hermione looked up into his pale grey eyes, emotion clogging her throat. Sleep was needed desperately. "Yes, thank you. I'm just so tired."

Lucius nodded, a flash of what looked like understanding come over his face. He handed her a small jar which he pulled out of his pocket. "Take this, it's bruise paste." His eyes went to her cheek and his hand started to reach up. Hermione flinched. He dropped his fingers and stood taller. His expressionless mask once again present.

Realizing he was actually being kind, Hermione spoke again. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." She offered him a small smile, but her tone and words were as formal as his had been. She thought she noticed him flinch when she called him Mr. Malfoy.

"I will instruct Draco to let you rest tonight," Lucius told her soundly. Then he spoke out more loudly. "Tinny!"

The house elf appeared instantly. "Take Miss Granger to her room. She is to retire for the evening."

* * *

Tinny apparated the exhausted witch to her suite and helped to undress her. Hermione yawned and looked down at the elf who was working quickly to unfasten the bindings of the dress. Hermione spoke sweetly. "Thank you, Tinny. Thank you for helping me.. for the pillows under my knees and for the cranberry juice."

The elf kept working but glanced up at Hermione in wide eyed surprise. Hermione wondered if the elf had ever been properly thanked.

Tinny slid the dress down Hermione's form as she spoke. "Tinny tended to the Lady Malfoy's of the past one hundred years. Tinny will tend to young miss as well, until Tinny is tolds not to."

Hermione sighed, her eyes fluttering, struggling to stay open as she talked with the elf. "Well, whatever your reason, I'm grateful. I'm relieved to have at least someone in this place who seems to care about my well-being."

Hermione made her way to the loo. Emptying her bladder, she was once again disheartened that the uncomfortable burning sensation was still present. She managed to stand and make it to the sink by leaning against the wall and gripping the edge of the large vanity as she walked. As she washed her hands, she looked at her grotesque reflection. Her bruise was a deep purple and her left eye looked swollen. The gash above her brow looked deep and the edges seemed to be bright pink. She wondered if it would become infected. She was too tired to use the bruise paste and placed the small jar on the vanity beside the sink. She would tend to her bruises in the morning.

Hermione thought of Ginny as she made her way back into her room. Her friend had looked radiant, and that was good news. She hoped Neville was okay. She gingerly slipped into her inviting bed. Taking a moment to look at her bedside clock, she found it was eight-thirty. It felt like midnight. She thought she noticed a flicker of movement in the portrait that was hanging over her fireplace, but when she looked again, she saw nothing except a vast blue sky and a field of poppies. Her thoughts moved to Neville as sleep overtook her instantly.

"Granger!" a voice yelled in the distance. "Mudblood, wake up!"

Hermione's eyes opened slightly. "No, I'm _so_ tired," she whispered in her half-conscious state.

"Wake up! Jeez, you're a hard sleeper." Hermione wanted to close her eyes, but the command kept her eyes open as her brain slowly came to consciousness. A strong hand was tapping her face and grabbing her arm, shaking her roughly. "Wake up, I'm not done with you. Father shouldn't have let you go yet."

Hermione glanced at the clock. It was only eight fifty-five. She'd only been in bed for twenty-five minutes.

She couldn't help the plea that fell from her lips. "Please, Draco. I can't. Please let me sleep."

"No. Pull your night dress off and scoot over," he demanded impatiently.

Hermione wanted to scream in frustration as she tried to move over in the bed. The muscles in her shoulders, back, and legs screamed in protest as she slowly moved towards the other side of the bed. Her arms ached as she grabbed the hem of her gown and pulled it over her head. Draco was naked and climbed in the bed beside her, laying on his back in the spot she had just occupied. He began stroking himself, his cock swelled quickly. "Climb on top and ride me."

Hermione's brain cried its disgust as her body obeyed his command. She felt like crying, but resisted. Her muscles throbbed and her legs trembled with the exertion. She managed to get onto her knees and move next to him.

"That's it. Now swing your leg over me and slide that cunt of yours down on my cock." A thought clearly came to him. "Wait, suck me first. Get my cock good and wet."

Hermione leaned down, her stomach muscles now adding their protest to her movements, as she lowered her mouth over him. He grabbed the back of her head and thrust his hips forward, once again ramming into the back of her throat, causing her to gag.

"If you puke on me, you'll regret it," he cautioned with venom in his voice.

Hermione concentrated hard on not gagging as she licked and sucked up and down his length. He grabbed her hair roughly, pulling her head back. "That's good enough. Now, fuck me."

He let go of her head as she forced herself up on her knees. She moved one leg over him. "Put your hands on your tits and play with your nipples." Her hands did as instructed as she lowered her tender core over his length. He grabbed her right hip roughly with his left hand as his right hand guided his cock so that it nestled at her entrance. He put his right hand on her left hip and forced her down on him. She nearly screamed in pain. She was dry and his cock felt like a ramming rod being shoved into her. He let out a grunt as his eyes closed. "Now, move up and down and fuck me like the whore you are."

Hermione's legs were so weak she could barely lift herself. "Faster and harder…now!" He commanded. The pain in her legs was almost unbearable, but nothing compared to the tender flesh of her damaged core being assaulted with his prick. He pulled his right hand from her hip and began to rub the spot that she was beginning to resent. This part of her body betrayed her. It caused her to feel pleasure when pleasure was the opposite of what she should be feeling. The more he rubbed the better it felt and the easier it became to slide up and down. The pain of him inside her lessened some.

"That's it. Now moan loudly."

Hermione began to moan. Sex noises, grunts, and whimpers fell from her lips as he rammed his hips up and into her. Her head pounded with each thrust. While the movements became more smooth (because of her natural lubrication), each jolt of his rolling hips aggravated her tenderness.

"Now, say: I'm a Mudblood who loves getting fucked."

Hermione repeated his words without a conscious thought. Words were just words, after all. She was adapting to the humiliation quickly. Soon enough, she would be able to ignore his taunts.

"Take your hands off your tits and put them on my chest. Move faster and harder. I want to see those tits bounce," he instructed, panting in time with his thrusts.

Hermione did as instructed, his eyes glued to her chest as she pumped up and down quickly. "That's it. You're so good at this. You were made for fucking. That's what you'll be spending the rest of your pathetic life doing." He continued mocking her as he drove up into her. Her eyes were closed, trying to shut him out as her mandated pleasure sounds continued without her consent. He smiled maliciously, knowing she was listening. "Malfoy wife or not, it's what I'm going to use you for. As soon as the Dark Lord confirms we won't be stuck having to marry you, I'm going to let my friends have a go with you as well."

He began to rub her harder. "Look how wet you're getting. You're such a slut…you like this don't you? Your body says you do."

Hermione fought the coiling within her. His words were helping to keep her from reaching her peak. His hand was doing the opposite. He stopped talking. After a couple of minutes, she couldn't stop her core from convulsing with her release, milking him as he tensed with his own climax. No longer under the compulsion to ride him, her worn out muscles just wouldn't support her. She couldn't prevent it as she collapsed forward onto him. He stiffened in shock for a moment before roughly shoving her off him as he slid out of the bed.

"Kneel on the floor, " he demanded as he walked away into her bathroom. She cautiously and slowly slid out of the bed and onto her knees. She heard the shower turn on and wondered if he was going to make her bathe him again. Then, she heard the water change as he stepped into it and realized he was going to leave her kneeling for now. His shower seemed to go on forever. Hermione closed her eyes, feeling herself drift off as her head fell forward. Only to be startled awake as her body obeyed his command to remain kneeling when she started to topple over.

It seemed like forever before Draco walked out of the loo. He was naked and toweling his hair as he approached her. "Stand up."

She almost fell over as her stiff knees and aching body complied. He watched her without expression and then pointed toward the corner of the room. "Go stand in the corner. Face it and stay there until I come for you again or your six am summons arrives."

She winced with dread, her body starting to tremble when she realized he wasn't going to allow her to sleep. "Please, Malfoy. Please, don't do this. I need to sleep. I'm so tired."

He ignored her words, his eyes glinting with malicious glee. She realized then he knew exactly what he was doing to her. "Do it, Mudblood."

Her body forced her to walk to the far corner of the room and stood in front of it.

He grinned, thoroughly enjoying her misery. She was visibly shaking with fatigue and pain. "No, do it right. Nestle yourself in there. I want your nose almost touching the corner," he commanded.

She moved closer, so that her nose was almost touching. She heard him flip pages and wondered what he was doing. _What is he reading?_

"Snape is training his pet to be a full blown submissive. You know what that is?" He answered her unspoken question.

 _What?_ She thought to herself. She had no idea what he was talking about.

He continued. "It's pretty kinky. I'm thinking I might like a submissive." She heard more pages turn. "I mean, technically, you're already my submissive, because you do what I say. But I want a _real_ one. A witch who does it because she _likes_ it. I'm thinking I'll practice on you, though." After a minute, he continued. "Father say's Snape's been into D/s for ages, ever since he first became a Death Eater. Ginny seems to be into it as well."

Hermione was surprised when he used Ginny's given name. Hermione didn't know what a submissive was, but she could guess. She heard of D/s before, but didn't really know what it was. It made her concerned for Ginny. Then again, it couldn't be much worse than what Hermione was enduring, right? At least, she hoped not.

She heard the sound of more pages and then a heavy sigh. "I'm too tired to practice tonight, though. I'm going to bed. You stay there."

She heard the closing of the door and felt unwelcome, worthless tears once again prick her eyes. She leaned her head forward and winced in pain when the gash on her forehead met the wall. She quickly pulled back as she felt a tear escape. _Bloody, fucking, useless tears. Enough, Hermione!_ She stood, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, trying to give her back a rest. After a few minutes, she heard a loud pop. There was silence, and then she felt something soft around her neck. It was a pillow. One that wedged between her shoulder and her head. She felt relief as she slightly tilted her head and felt the strain on her neck and shoulders subside. The pillow absorbed the weight of her head. It felt heavenly. She next felt something soft press up against her back and something jetted out where her bottom was, allowing her lean slightly into it. This softness held her as she leaned back into it. She couldn't quite sit completely, but she could sort of half stand, half sit.

"Tinny, what if Draco comes back and finds me like this? He'll kill both of us!"

She heard Tinny's small voice. "Tinny will stay with young Miss all night and will release spell if Master Draco comes."

"But you should rest! You've been working all day. You must be tired."

"Young Miss must not worries about Tinny. Tinny will takes care of Tinny."

"Oh Tinny, thank you. If you get tired, though, you must release the spell and go to bed. I won't have you being tortured or punished for helping me."

"Dobby was right about young Miss. Dobby said young Miss was a good witch. Dobby was Tinny's brother. Tinny misses Dobby and will take care of Dobby's friend."

Hermione shook with fresh tears for Tinny's kindness and for Dobby's soul. "Dobby was a wonderful elf and a good friend to Harry Potter. He was a good friend to me! He died saving us. I owe him so much."

It was silent for a couple of minutes. "Young Miss must try to rest, Tinny will watch over the good witch."

The night dragged. Hermione was so grateful for Tinny's help and knew that without it she would have been in a dreadful situation. It was bad enough, but so much better than it could be. She felt herself doze for short spurts, but knew it was no more than a few minutes at a time as the bond forced her to maintain her feet on the floor and her nose close to the wall. Tinny could only help her so much.

As the night progressed, Hermione felt more and more terrible. One moment, she was so hot and the next she was freezing. The chills overcame her despite Tinny draping a blanket around her. Her teeth were chattering and she felt nauseous. Her head really hurt, throbbing behind her eyes. Each minute seemed like an hour. Tinny, bless her kind soul, did not seem to mind when Hermione asked her for the time repeatedly.

She felt like she was in a fog of delirium, when her heart began to speed up and pound. She recognized the symptoms of the pull of her bond and somewhere in her subconscious realized six am must be approaching. She felt weightless as the softness behind her disappeared and her head fell forward as her neck pillow vanished.

"Comes, young Miss. Tinny will takes you."

Tinny took Hermione's hand and the vacuum feel of apparition came over her. Upon landing in Lucius' suite, a horrible wave a nausea overcame her as her head whirled uncontrollably. Black spots exploded in front of her eyes, and her legs couldn't support her weight. Her knees buckled and she fell forward, crashing into a table. It pitched over, causing a glass lamp to fall and shatter. The sound reverberated through the room as she fought to remain conscious.

* * *

Lucius woke with a start. _What the…?_ He sat up in bed, throwing the covers off and scanning the room. He found Hermione near the door, collapsed on the floor at Tinny's feet. She looked so small and… _naked_? _Where is her night gown?_

"Tinny, what happened?" He jumped out of bed and dashed to Hermione's side. His tone was abrupt and scolding. Even in the dim light he could see the bruises that littered her abused frame. _Oh my Gods, what the hell?_

Hermione came to the defense of her friend, her words coming out slurred with exhaustion. "Not Tin's fault…Draco…he…" Lucius crouched before her, sliding his palms underneath and lifting her into his arms. _Merlin, she's burning up!_ He watched, feeling slightly sick, as her eyes rolled back into her head, her body went limp for a moment. Even with the dead weight of her in his arms, she was so light. She felt like she weighed less than the first time he had held her like this. Had that really only been less than forty-eight hours ago?

"Tinny, get Healer Jacobs." He demanded, his tone of voice conveying the slight panic he felt. Tinny disappeared with a snap and a loud pop.

He stood, looking at her face as he held her. "Draco what? What did Draco do?" He asked, his words urgent. He wanted answers.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. He stared into the soft caramel orbs as she watched him. Soft tendrils of hair framed her face, which was still heavily bruised. "He…" she swallowed hard, and he winced at the sound. It seemed painful. "He made me stand in the corner." She swallowed again. "All night." Her words were barely a whisper. Her voice sounded as though someone had taken sand paper to her vocal chords. She seemed so frail and was shivering in his arms.

"He came to your room? Last night?" Lucius' tone was much more abrupt than he intended. He had told Draco to leave her alone. _Damn the boy!_ She had so obviously needed to rest.

"Miss Granger." She didn't open her eyes. "Hermione! Did Draco come to your room last night?"

Hermione's eyes flickered again. "Yes, just after dinner." She leaned her head on his shoulder. Her body sinking against his bare chest as if she trusted him.

As Lucius questioned her, he walked out the door and hurried down the hall. He turned into another connecting hallway and then into Hermione's suite. The heat radiating off her made him feel over warm. Her skin was flushed, and she had very dark circles under her eyes. He laid her back onto her bed and then dashed into her bathroom. After quickly running a flannel under cool water, he rushed back to her side where he began to dab her face and her neck. She was naked and her entire body was colored with heat.

"Where is that blasted elf?" He snapped aloud to no one in particular.

"Tinny is an angel." Hermione was barely able to speak, but muttered out the words anyhow. Her lips curved into a soft smile. Lucius was amazed that the girl had anything to even smile about. Draco had been wrong, she was much stronger than either of her abusers gave her credit for. This included himself.

She flinched as he brushed the gash over her eye. It looked worse than this morning – angry, red, and swollen. "How did you hurt your head?"

"I'm so tired," she mumbled, turning her face away from him.

He sighed. "I know, Princess. Just a couple more questions."

"Mm, Princess…that's nice. Makes me feel almost…human. I miss feeling like a person." She opened her lovely, caramel eyes and looked at him with their fathomless depths. "You aren't like Draco. You're…almost…well…" she sighed, trailing off. Her eyes fluttered again, settling closed after a moment. "Thank you for not hitting me."

 _Oh, dear Merlin_! He felt a knot in his throat as he swallowed. _To be thanked for not doing more than raping her. For Merlin's-fucking-sake!_ "How did you hurt your head, Hermione?" Lucius needed to know what had happened.

He smoothed some hair off her forehead and watched as she struggled to open her eyes again. Small slits could be seen as she answered him. "Draco slapped me. Knocked me into his nightstand."

Lucius' hand on her face tensed with that revelation. The movement was answered with Hermione's eyes flying wide as she cringed away from him. He pulled back from her abruptly. "I'm not going to hurt you, Pet." His voice was strangled. "I'm getting you some help. Do you need some water?"

"Please." It was a very quiet rasp. Lucius entered her adjoining bathroom to find a small crystal tumbler at the sink. He filled it and returned to her bedside. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to jostle her too much, he whispered her name. She blinked slowly; he watched as she pulled herself from the foggy clutches of sleep. Slipping one arm under her shoulders, he helped her sit before bringing the cool glass of water to her lips. Hermione leaned heavily into him, the bruised side of her face pressed against his bare shoulder. The heat of her once again made him queasy with concern.

Once she seemed finished with the water, he spoke soothingly. "Get some rest, Hermione. It's going to be all right." Gently, he guided her back to the pillows before smoothing a tumble of curls off her face again.

After a moment of watching long, thick, dark lashes laying shadowed against her cheeks, Lucius turned towards the sound of Apparition. "Over here." The grey-haired healer with glasses looked from Lucius to the naked girl laying on the bed.

Lucius stood and moved out of the way as the healer walked quickly over to Hermione and waved his wand down her body.

"I can tell you right away she has a serious kidney infection. She's also severely sleep deprived," he said, pausing over her abdomen. He _accio'd_ his bag and pulled out another wand, passing it over her body again. A blue glow hovered over her head. "She also has a slight concussion." He moved the wand slowly down the length of her form, stopping to hover over her pelvis. He let out a heavy sigh. "I will need to do a pelvic exam."

Lucius stepped back, another wave of nausea rolling through him. "Just do whatever she needs." He gestured towards her. "Make sure she'll be all right."

Lucius stood watching, his anger escalated as he thought about Draco's defiance and abuse. Unable to just stand there and do nothing, he marched out of Hermione's room and apparated to Draco's – which was on another wing. He barged into the young man's suite. Approaching the bed, he found the soundly sleeping form of his son.

"Draco, wake up!" he snapped. When there was no response, Lucius shook his shoulder. "Draco, wake up."

Draco groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "Wha-at," he drawled out, yawning.

"What did you do to Hermione?" he demanded.

Draco stretched. "Father, I'm tired. Let's talk later." He started to roll away from Lucius.

"Draco Malfoy, you sit up and answer me this instant!" His tone was angry and adamant.

Draco sighed heavily and slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, his eyes only half open. Lucius noticed the D/s magazines tossed on the other side of the bed and his anger increased. _Think about that later_.

"Tell me what you did to Miss Granger. Healer Jones is with her right now and based on his demeanor and what he said, it's serious! What did you do to her?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I fucked her and made her stand in the corner for the night."

Lucius shook his head. "I told you she needed to rest! I told you she'd be no bloody good to us in the state she was in!" he raged. "What else have you done? How did she get the gash on her head and the bruise on her face?" He wanted to hear his son say it. Wanted to hear the boy tell him why he had done what he had done. There was no reply. "She has a concussion, Draco!"

Draco sighed heavily. "Father, what's the big deal? She was being disrespectful. I taught her a lesson or two."

Lucius sighed, crossing his arms. "Enough is enough. I won't have our witch battered and bruised. It's not attractive or enjoyable having her injured and maltreated and _flinching_ every time we touch her."

"She's just a Mudblood, who cares?" Draco responded, dismissively.

"She's not _just_ a Mudblood, Draco! Get it through your head! You might be _married_ to her one day. _I might be married to her one day_ _!_ She might be your _wife or stepmother!_ Do you want to be married to a woman who despises and fears you?"

"Frankly, Father, I don't really care if she hates me or not. I don't understand why you suddenly care so much." A pale, blond eyebrow rose as Draco studied his father's face.

Lucius took a deep breath, trying to dispel some of his anger. The last thing he needed was for Draco to think he was trying to protect the girl for anything other than his own pleasure with her appearance. Lucius was terrified the insolent brat, that his son was, would accidently kill the girl. Then they'd really have the Dark Lord's wrath come down on them. "I never thought of her as someone we would _abuse_ Draco." He sighed , rubbing his eyes. "There obviously isn't any point in trying to explain it to you. Use your brain! Think! Leave her alone. _Fuck_ her, but don't _harm_ her."

"Father. News flash. We _raped_ her. Or had you forgotten?" Draco quipped, an evil smirk splitting his face. He obviously had no remorse.

Lucius' jaw tensed. "You know we were being watched that evening. We had no choice."

Draco pointed at the sleeping portrait of Abraxas in the corner of his room. "The portraits are still watching, Father. They are _always_ watching, and the Dark Lord will always know what goes on in this house because of it."

Lucius let out a huff. Draco was right, but he was also so very wrong. "Yes. Clearly, we are under a constant eye, but that doesn't mean you have to _beat_ her!"

Draco stared at his father for a minute, his expression contemplative. Lucius had a flicker of hope that he was actually getting through to the boy before it fizzled and died. "You treat her as you see fit and I'll do the same. We'll see where the bludger lands. The Dark Lord is finally showing me favor. It's taken a very long time, but it's happening because he no longer sees me as weak."

Lucius was taken aback by his son's tone. Draco had never challenged him in such a way. "Beating a wandless witch doesn't make you strong, Draco."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You mind leaving so that I can get some more sleep?"

Lucius watched him for a minute. "Fine, but do yourself a favor and back off her. I fear you'll live to regret this behavior if you don't."

Lucius left his son's suite and apparated to his suite to shower and dress before heading back to Hermione. He arrived to find Healer Jacobs still at her bedside. Tinny was next to him, organizing flasks and jars on her bedside table.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. So, Miss Granger is quite ill. I shudder to think what would have happened if this had gone untreated much longer. UTI's can be very dangerous when left unattended."

Lucius swallowed heavily, realizing he was as much to blame as Draco. Hermione had told him she had a urinary tract infection, he should have gotten the potions she needed immediately. "She'll get better?"

Healer Jacobs gave a firm nod. "Yes, physically she will heal. Emotionally…mentally?" He paused, seemingly hesitant to say more. "Miss Granger is suffering from severe depression. My psychological evaluation showed she has had suicidal ideations in the last forty-eight hours." He dropped a few items in his bag and turned to face Lucius fully. "Her perineum has been brutalized. I've never seen a witch as torn up as she is." Lucius visibly flinched when the healer couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice.

"She needs to heal before any more sexual activity occurs." Jacobs looked at Tinny and then at Hermione. "I have given Tinny healing balms, bruise paste, a mood lifting potion, and a systemic anti-infection potion. She has been instructed in their use." He paused before adding. "Miss Granger's head gash was infected as well."

Lucius wondered how the healer knew Hermione's name, but quickly dismissed the curiosity as he listened to the healer.

Jacobs placed the last of his items in his bag and closed it. He looked at Lucius. "She needs to heal and rest. A _minimum_ of two days to let the healing potions work."

Lucius looked at the sleeping girl and sighed. "Thank you, Healer Jacobs. We'll be in touch if we need further assistance."

The healer paused before leaving. "I would like to stop by to check on her tomorrow, if that is acceptable?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes, of course. Whatever you think is best."

Healer Jacobs was Apparated by Tinny, leaving Lucius to watch over the now sleeping witch. She looked so incredibly young.

A flicker of movement over the mantle caught his attention. Lucius turned and saw her approach, walking through the field of poppies. He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to quell the swell of emotion at seeing her beautiful face.

"Luc, something needs to be done about this," her soft voice whispered.

He scanned the room, confirming there were no other "visitors" in any of the other paintings in the suite. He could only talk freely when they were alone. "Yes, love. I fear our Draco has started show the signs."


	7. Chapter Seven

**These characters and the magical world they live in belong to JK Rowling and her publishers.**

**Thanks to my amazing co-writer and best friend, LissaDream. I love you, LD! Please be sure to check out our other co-written story, _Master Mine._**

**Thanks for all comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions. These little nods of appreciation are what inspire us to keep writing ;)**

**Chapter Seven**

Lucius stood beside the bed, watching the frail, sleeping witch. Internally, he reprimanded himself for being reckless and careless. If the girl had died, merely two days after being gifted, he shuddered to think what the Dark Lord would have done. Knowing the man's unpredictability, it could have been a mere shrug of his shoulders or a crucio followed by months in a dank dungeon. Lucius had learned long ago there was no way to envisage the Dark Lord's reactions.

The Malfoy patriarch paced lightly about the bedroom, taking the time to note where the portraits and paintings were positioned. He wasn't sure if he had ever stepped foot in this room before this morning. It was simply a typical guest suite in Malfoy Manor. At least a dozen just like it were scattered throughout each wing.

As he paced the space, he was happy to find there actually weren't any portraits hanging on the walls, however, this would not prevent visitors. Narcissa had made her way here, after all. It did, however, mean none of his ancestors or subjects painted throughout the Manor would be spending a lot of time in this suite. Unsettling was the best word he could find, knowing he was being watched at any and every moment in most any part of the Manor. It's not that he had anything to hide, per se, but he valued his privacy and knew reports of his activities were being given to the Dark Lord. Some of his ancestors, namely his father, were highly embarrassed of the actions the small Malfoy family had taken during the Battle of Hogwarts. Abraxas Malfoy had even expressed his approval of Narcissa being executed for trying to protect Potter.

Lucius sighed, and continued to walk around the room, studying each painting on the wall. Only a fraction of the artwork in the Manor depicted Malfoy ancestors. The Hall of Portraits, off the entrance foyer, held over seventy-five portraits of witches and wizards who were prominent figures in wizarding history. Some of them dated back to the 1600's. His great grandfather times ten, Lucius' namesake, had even aspired to secure the hand of Queen Elizabeth I. This was before the statute of secrecy laws were in effect; when the Malfoys mingled with English Nobility. There were paintings of many of the English Royalty from that time scattered throughout the expansive house.

As his thoughts wandered back to the paintings in this particular suite, he was surprised to discover at least half were Muggle in origin. He studied the Muggle canvases and found them lacking. There was one that had quite stunning colors and while the images were pleasant, they were also very blurred. Glancing at the bottom corner, Lucius noted the signature _Monet_. Clearly this artist had not gone very far in life, the fool must have needed glasses. His Grandmother, Elizabella, had fancied herself an art collector, he wondered if she was the one who had amassed a large collection of what was likely worthless wall coverings.

Lucius' attention was turned back to the young witch when he heard her moan and sigh loudly. Grudgingly, he had to admit that she was a beautiful girl, if one fancied wild, untamed, bushy, and riotous curls. Hair aside, she had lovely facial features – dainty and feminine. She had a heart shaped face with soft cheekbones, arched brows, and quite stunning, large, luminous eyes. Lucius closed his own eyes, trying to hold back his frustration with the situation. Hermione's eyes were a problem for Lucius, especially as the second day had progressed. Draco had been unnecessarily brutal with her. While Lucius did not condone or exhibit the same behavior, her furious accusations and obvious pain and fatigue had rung clear in those luminescent, golden orbs. She seemingly directed all her expressive looks at Lucius, almost as if she hoped he would protect her. How could he? He hadn't even been able protect his own wife. Why should he try to protect a Mudblood girl?

He returned his gaze to her bruised face, Hermione's eyes were moving rapidly behind her lids. _Hmm. Dreaming. Why didn't the healer give her Dreamless Sleep Potion?_ Clearly, she needed it.

He was started out of his thoughts by a large crack of Apparation, Tinny had arrived. "Tinny, fetch some Dreamless Sleep from the Manor Apothecary. I believe Severus restocked our supplies yesterday. Miss Granger is restless in her sleep from dreaming."

Tinny looked up at Lucius, clearly struggling with something. The little elf's eyes were large and her ears were twitching nervously. She looked toward Hermione and back up at him, something like resolve coming over her as she finally spoke. "Tinny will iron her ears, Master Lucius, but Tinny cannots give young Miss Dreamless Sleep Potion. Healer Jacobs tolds Tinny nots to."

"Why ever not?" Lucius asked, his tone impatient and his head cocked.

The elf was now twisting her tea towel nervously. "Healer Jacobs says Miss must be woken every four hours for her potions and pastes. Dreamless Sleep will prevent her from being able to takes her medicines."

Lucius hmphed and looked back at the witch. "Fine. You do not need to iron your ears." He looked back down at her. "Make sure Master Draco is awake and at breakfast by eight. Have Bilby wake him if you are tending to Miss Granger."

He promptly Apparated to his suite finding he wanted to be alone. Thinking back on the events of the morning, he swallowed down the heartache that still overcame him at random times. The remembrance of her appearing again this morning was to blame for today's episode. Narcissa had startled him when she awoke in her portrait two weeks before. He had been napping and had wakened to the feeling of being watched. He had known she would awaken at some point, but had not known when. His father had taken over six months to wake up.

Narcissa had insisted they have their portraits done and the proper charm applied the minute the Dark Lord had returned. Astutely realizing the possibility of an early demise, she had commissioned the paintings quickly. Lucius had told her she was being silly and paranoid, but she had been right.

Bloody hell, this was just one of the many things he owed his late wife an apology for. His other faults were even more damning. He had loved Narcissa more than anything in this world. Society had dictated his actions, though and  he had been occasionally unfaithful to her. Somehow, the fact she had never found out about his infidelity made it worse. He had been disrespectful and demeaning at times – actually more times than he cared to remember. Other times he had been rudely dismissive and cold. He wished he could turn back the clock and make it right. If he ever found love again, even if it was just a fraction of the love he had for his Narcissa, he would treat the witch with more respect and he would keep his vows. He had married too young, had not really been ready. Unfortunately, marrying young was the way of the wizarding world.

He crossed the room on sat in hos favorite chair, his gaze drawn to the flames in the hearth. When Narcissa had first awoken, he had sobbed on the floor in front of her. Lucius felt he had failed her, had not protected her enough at the Hogwarts Battle. How could he have protected her from the Dark Lord's wand, though? She had made a grave error, lying about Potter being dead. The simple truth was she shouldn't have even been there, she wasn't a fighter. The Dark Lord had insisted _all_ his followers be there, however. He felt his anger start to spike and concentrated hard on ridding himself of that feeling and its source. The Dark Lord was a powerful Legilimens; it would mean Lucius' death if he caught wind of the Malfoy patriarch's feelings, or picked up on that resentment.

Since the first appearance, she had only come to him three more times - the third being this morning. She tended to follow Draco around, keeping a watch on the person she had always loved the most. Lucius didn't blame her, Draco had worshipped his mother, and they had been very close. The boys' heartbreak was still buried inside. Lucius didn't think Draco had even shed a tear yet. He had hoped that perhaps a female presence would be good for him, but clearly all he was doing was subconsciously taking out his resentment from his mother's death on the young witch. At least he hoped that's what this was. The alternative was...well, he wasn't quite ready to think the worst yet. Narcissa's words this morning had given him hope.

Deciding he needed to start his day, he arrived downstairs just before eight, as he did every morning. Taking his seat, he wondered if he should arrange with Bilby to send something up for Hermione. Then dismissed the thought, knowing Tinny would see to her.

He glanced over his paper as Draco sauntered in, yawning. "I trust you were able to get some more sleep?"

Draco sat in his chair and immediately picked up and took a deep sip of the hot cup of tea that had appeared before him. "I was able to doze a little more," he answered after he swallowed.

Bilby appeared and snapped his fingers, covered platters materialized in front of them. The lids were lifted, revealing omelets with spinach, tomato, and feta as well as toast and muffins with warm butter and pumpkin spice spread.

Lucius put down the paper and spoke as he draped his napkin across his lap. "Miss Granger is to be left alone for at least forty-eight hours. She is very ill and Healer Jacobs indicated she could have died if left untreated much longer."

Draco remained expressionless as he picked up his fork. Lucius chewed a bite of omelet and swallowed before continuing. "Perhaps, it would be wise to not be so...rough...with Miss Granger. It might be nice if she enjoyed our attentions, don't you think?" He watched his son take a bite of a muffin slathered with butter and pumpkin spread. Draco chewed and swallowed before setting it down on his plate and raising his face to his father.

"No." Draco's answer was impertinent. Lucius clenched his jaw.

"I'm serious, Draco. The Dark Lord will not appreciate us killing her before he is ready for her to be dead," he struggled to keep his voice calm, inside he was boiling with fury.

"I will not kill her," Draco said simply, still not looking at his father.

"You almost did!" Lucius had a hard time keeping the condescension out of his voice.

"I didn't." His son's calm, indifferent demeanor sent chills through him.

"Draco." Lucius closed his eyes as grief overcame him. Draco was all he had left in this world. "We must keep Miss Granger safe. Yes – it is compulsory that we sleep with her - it maintains the bonding – but this is all supposed to be with a purpose. You must remember our objective here. The Dark Lord wants to use her to his advantage! She needs to be swayed to seeing the right of things. It is not necessary or helpful, therefore, to work her to death or beat her until she is black and blue. She had a bloody concussion, Draco!"

"As I said earlier, Father," Draco snapped, his face contorting with ire. "I will do as I please, you may do as you please. By all means, _heal_ the Mudblood when she's with you. A blank canvas is always nice." Haughtily, Draco reached for his cup of tea. "I have my way of persuasion and you have yours."

"What has gotten into you, Draco?" Lucius demanded softly. "I know you do not like Granger, but I did not raise you to treat women this way."

"She is not a woman, Father," Draco sneered. "She is a Mudblood whore, a dog who needs to be trained."

The blatant cruelty in his son's voice gave Lucius pause. The sneer on Draco's face matched the one Lucius had watched on his sister-in-law's cold mug for the last three years. He suddenly felt like he needed to choose his words carefully. Suppressing a shudder, he changed his tactic.

"Do as you see fit, Draco, but for the next forty-eight hours, she is completely off limits. Healer's orders!" he ground out harshly when it looked as though Draco would protest. Lucius conceded to his son treating Granger poorly with a condition of his own. "After her healing period, she will be left alone every night from ten until the next morning when she is woken for my summons so that she may have time to rest." He wiped a hand down his face, struggling to get the image of the young girl's battered and bruised body out of his mind. Granger was so very young. The horrors she and Draco had been through at their tender age was tragic. She may be a Mudblood, but even he had to concede it wasn't exactly her fault.

"She will need to sleep in order to have the stamina for our…attentions, and your rather excessive chore list." The last bit was said with an underlying sarcasm. He sighed before continuing. "I will make sure your extracurricular activities with her do not become detrimental to her health." That statement made Lucius feel slightly nauseated, but what else could he say? At the moment, he did not feel he was able to trust his son.

"Midnight to six," Draco countered with a furious expression.

"Eleven," Lucius growled his final offer with a glare of his own. "With that compromise, I demand she be left alone daily following lunch for an hour to rest. I will give her this command. It will override any orders you give her, since my orders supersede yours as the patriarch of this home." He met Draco's narrowed gaze.

"Father, don't tell me you feel…sorry…for the dirty little thing?" Draco's voice was laced with an underlying threat.

"No." Lucius' voice gave nothing away. "I simply insist we take care of the gift the Dark Lord gave us until he is ready for her to be disposed of." He gave his son an evil smile, masking his disgust at the thought of wasting Granger's life that way. "You might like your women battered and bruised, but I much prefer mine with creamy skin and no weeping wounds."

"Fine." Draco's face was still a mask of fury, but Lucius could see resignation in his eyes.

"One last thing." Lucius did not look at Draco. "No more facial wounds. Leave her unmarked there."

"Father!" Draco started to protest.

" _No_ , Draco!" Lucius thundered, slamming a hand down on the table. "I am still your father, you will do as I tell you! No more marks on her face!"

Draco threw his napkin on the table. His voice was deadly calm. "You seem to forget she was gifted to _both_ of us."

Neither wizard spoke again. Lucius was trying to keep his anger in check, his disappointment concealed. His son was turning into someone he didn't recognize right before his eyes.

Draco, on the other hand, felt himself calm as he realized he would simply need to conceal any facial markings and forbid her from telling Lucius. Glamour charms were very effective.

He stood from the table, "I'm going out. Theo and Blaise are waiting for me."

Lucius watched his son as he cockily sauntered out the room without a backwards glance.

* * *

Lucius felt compelled to stay at the Manor the rest of the day. It was a Thursday and normally he would be at Malfoy Enterprises, but he just didn't trust his son to leave the young witch alone.

He Apparated to her suite and was pleased to find Tinny sitting in a small chair next to her bed. "Any change?"

Tinny stood and addressed her Master. "Young Miss has been sleeping. She's is tossing and turning less. The potions is already helping."

Lucius let out a heavy sigh. "Good. Stay with her. If Draco comes here, let me know. I wish to speak with him." He took another hard look at the sleeping girl and left.

After a couple hours in his study, Lucius leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He was working on another winery acquisition in France that he was very excited about, work was one of the few pleasures left in his life.

"Luc, you're tired. You need some rest."

Lucius turned his chair towards the portrait to the left of his desk, next to the fireplace. He looked at her with soft eyes, surprised by her second appearance today. "Cissa, it's not the same with you gone." He glanced around the office confirming there were no other visitors in the picture frames scattered about his study. "I miss you," he whispered sincerely, looking up at her.

Her expression was warm, her eyes knowing. "I know, darling, but I'm not there anymore. You know that this portrait is merely a representation of me." Narcissa's portrait watched him for a minute. "What of the Mudblood girl? How is she?"

Lucius sighed heavily. "She will heal, if only for Draco to harm her all over again."

Narcissa's eyes were suddenly sharp. "Draco will come back to himself, Luc. We talked about this only hours ago. This is grief. He is a good boy...a loving boy. You need to be a good father and show him the right way. Words will mean nothing."

As much as he doubted her and feared she was wrong, he would not be dismissive of her thoughts. He would never do that again. "Yes, my flower. I'm sure you are right."

He watched with disappointment as her eyes fluttered closed and her head fell forward for a nap. She slept most of the time, which is normal for most magical portraits. The newly deceased sleep far more than the others, however. He was told she would be like this for months.

With a heavy sigh he pushed away from his desk and Apparated to Hermione's suite once again. What he found infuriated him. Hermione was sound asleep and Draco was in her room with Theo and Blaise. Tinny was standing in the corner, trembling. He cut a glance at her, but knew this was Draco's fault. He had likely forbidden the elf from leaving.

Lucius said nothing as he slowly took in the scene before him. Hermione was under her comforter and was sleeping. It appeared she had not been exposed or touched. He set his face in a hard mask and merely stared at Draco, expressing his displeasure without words.

Draco gave his father a defiant look as he stated. "I just wanted to check on our witch, Father. I was... _worried_." He cut a smirk at Blaise who attempted to suppress a smile. Theo, on the other hand, swallowed heavily as his eyes shot from the sleeping witch to Lucius to Draco.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "We were just leaving. Come on, guys," he said, glancing back at his friends as he made for the door.

Lucius said nothing to Draco but nodded a friendly hello to the two visiting wizards as they walked passed him. After the door closed, Tinny immediately spoke up. "Tinny's was comings to get Master Lucius, when young master demanded Tinny stay."

Lucius sighed as he nodded at the clearly terrified little elf. _Am I really that scary?_ "Tinny, I know you would not disobey me without cause. I'm not angry." He looked back at Hermione. "Has she eaten?"

Tinny hung her shoulders, "Only some soup, Master. Tinny offered to makes young miss whatever young miss likes, but young miss just sleeps and sleeps."

Lucius made a quick decision in that moment. "Tinny, transfer Miss Granger to the mistress suite connected to my own." Tinny's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Yes. I know the suite hasn't been used in over a century, but I feel it's a necessary move to keep a better eye on her. I wish to keep her close." He quickly reprimanded himself for speaking aloud. Glancing quickly around the room, he was relieved to find his slipup would not come back to haunt him. He added for good measure. "It will also provide me with easy access to her charms without the inconvenience of Apparition."

* * *

Hermione stretched and rolled over, flipping her pillow. Her eyes opened lazily as she slowly woke and remembered where she was. Not wanting to face that nightmare, she closed them again, but bright sun was filtering into the room. _Something's different_. Her eyes popped open and she sat up slowly, taking in the huge suite surrounding her _. Where am I?_ She smiled to herself when all she could see were the tips of little elf ears beside her bed. "Tinny?"

Hermione peeked over the side of the bed to find the elf was standing next to her bedside table. She looked at the floor and then at the bed. The bed was very high off the ground and was huge, larger than a king if she had to guess. The dark purple comforter was luxurious and felt smooth as silk. The grey sheets were the softest she had ever touched.

Tinny was looking up at her. "Good witch needs to takes her potions."

"Tinny, where am I?"

"Master Lucius mades Tinny move good witch to mistress suite."

Hermione's forehead crinkled as she once again looked around, paying closer attention. _Mistress suite! Well, that can't be good_.

Tinny had no patience for Hermione's curiosity. "Good witch will takes her potions."

"Yes, Tinny whatever you say," Hermione conceded to her new friend. Tinny hopped on the bed beside Hermione, balancing a tray with the potions which Hermione had become well acquainted with. She swallowed the first bitter vial and asked, "When was I moved?"

Tinny handed Hermione the next vial. "Yesterday afternoon," Tinny replied in a no-nonsense tone. With a wave of Tinny's hand, Hermione felt the familiar cool balm coat between her legs. _Yesterday?_

"I need to use the Loo, Tinny." The elf hopped off the bed and placed the tray on the bedside table before positioning a step stool for Hermione's convenience. Hermione slid out of the monstrous bed onto the stool and stepped onto the plush Turkish carpeting. She couldn't help but glance about the room as she walked, taking in the huge fireplace to her left with a large sitting area in front of it. The sofa was a large burgundy, red Victorian style with scroll arm rests. It had soft velvet upholstery with tufted button details. On either side of the sofa were Victorian curved back armchairs with the same soft velvet tufted upholstery. A stunning oval oriental rug in deep hues of reds, greens and golds was the centerpiece of the settee. Bookshelves lined the wall to the left and right of the fireplace. Further to the right, in the corner, was a table with a place setting. The table had two chairs and was large enough for two people to comfortably dine. Straight ahead was a balcony with large French doors, covered with fine, white lace curtains. To the right of the balcony was the loo. The suite was almost as large as Lucius'.

She stepped into the en-suite bathroom and was shocked at the extravagance. A huge tub, which was more like a small swimming pool, had colorful turquoise and blue Turkish tiles. Next to the tub, a large picture window looked over a similar view to Lucius'. Only instead of being able to see the quidditch pitch, she could see part of the garden. The swimming pool was surrounded by gazebo type structures and chaise lounges. In the distance, the stables loomed magnificently. White Arabian horses were being led out of the structure by two people. Hermione could only guess how many servants were required to run an estate like this. She watched as their harnesses were released and they galloped into the large green pasture, celebrating their freedom. They weren't really free, though, not really. Hermione could commiserate.

Her bladder was protesting loudly, so she stepped into the small room next to the large his and her shower. A toilet and bidet were side by side. She sat on the toilet and relief coursed through her as her bladder emptied a large amount without any burning at all. She glanced at her arms and found no marks of any kind. On her way out of the loo, she stepped to the large gold-gilded mirror which hung over the gorgeous, pale green marble vanity. She looked at herself, disappointed to find she still had a rather large bruise on her left cheek and the gash on her forehead was still present. They were far better than earlier, though. The bruising was in its last stages of healing and the gash looked much less angry. She wondered if it would leave a scar, not that she really cared.

As she walked back to the bed, she exhaled with relief that the tenderness of her muscles was gone as well. "Tinny, what time is it?"

Tinny fluffed Hermione's pillows before hopping off the bed and answering. "Seven-thirty. Tinny's will bring good witch breakfast before good witch sleeps more." Tinny snapped her fingers and disappeared with the familiar pop.

Surprisingly, Hermione was actually hungry. She couldn't help the renewed hope she felt. She felt more like herself, physically and mentally stronger, but knew it would be short lived. She was still a slave to rapists and abusers who would likely appear at any minute.

She almost barked a laugh at the irony when Lucius entered the suite from a door at the foot of her bed. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked her up and down. "You're better." It was a statement and not a question. "Have you eaten?"

Hermione decided to be civil. "Tinny is getting me some breakfast."

He nodded formally. "Well then, that's good." There was an awkward silence. "Alright, I'll leave you…for now." He started to walk back through the same door when he paused and looked back at her. "I have instructed Draco to leave you alone until tomorrow." Hermione saw a flash of what looked like embarrassment or uncertainty on his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but abruptly left the suite instead.

She stood watching the door, confused by his behavior. She didn't have time to think about it, as Tinny reappeared with a platter and placed it on the dining table in the corner of the room. Hermione stepped over and sat down, her heart accelerating as the lid was lifted to reveal strawberry covered waffles, scrambled eggs, sausage, muffins, hot tea, cranberry juice and cut fruit. She was ravenous and ate more than half before she had to stop. Her stomach full to bursting, she climbed back in bed and nestled under the covers. Sleep claimed her again, quickly.

Lucius visited a second time after he finished his breakfast. Draco had joined him at the table, as usual, but the conversation had revolved around Malfoy Enterprises and some deeds the Dark Lord was requiring. Draco had been recruited on another Muggle round up mission. The Dark Lord had acquired new potions that needed testing and he needed test subjects. He liked his subjects young and healthy and old and frail. He liked to compare the effects and the intensity. Draco and seven others would spread out over the UK and "acquire" two individuals each. Because Draco was young and handsome, he was usually assigned to attract young women. Draco was very good at turning on the charm and never disappointed.

Lucius was relieved that Hermione would be left alone today, and he felt he could return to work. Fortunately, Lucius had not left before Healer Jacobs had visited. The healer was pleased to find Hermione much improved, but insisted she still needed her rest. Hermione was conscious for this visit and kept a wary eye on Lucius who hovered in one corner of the room.

The Healer reassured her with a smile and soft pat on the shoulder that she would be good as new. His eyes were kind, but knowing, and Hermione felt a flush of embarrassment.

Lucius stepped over at this point and Hermione was surprised by the concerned look on his face as he spoke. "So…she'll recover fully? No ill effects from the concussion?"

Hermione eyes widened. _Concussion? That bastard!_

The healer glanced back at Hermione and then replied. "No, it was a minor concussion, but it's important she suffer no more head injuries."

Lucius cast a troubled look over the Healer's shoulder at Hermione. He then whispered. "And…her emotional and psychological frame of mind?"

The Healer sighed heavily, rubbed his brow and spoke softly. "Mr. Malfoy, she has had no new ideations since yesterday, but I imagine she's been barely conscious most of that time."

Lucius stared at the man astutely. The healer didn't back down and added. "Also, it's not my business, but I noticed she is not protected against pregnancy. If that is not a concern, then I shall be on my way."

Lucius felt the blood drain from his face, his eyes darting to Hermione when he heard her let out a small shriek of horror.

The Healer, interpreting their reactions, quickly reassured them both. "She's not pregnant. But if this is not desired, and I'm assuming by both your reactions that it's not, we should address this issue promptly." He blanched when he realized he had made a supposition. "Unless…of course…and I apologize if I was out of line…you two are not…" The Healers face had gone from ashen white to bright red.

Lucius couldn't resist the opportunity. "Yes, a very _wild_ assumption on your part. Miss Granger is merely in my care," he lied convincingly.

The healer was completely flustered. "Yes, yes, of course. Forgive me."

Lucius' superior tone continued. "However, since you brought it up and considering Miss Granger's _nature_ , perhaps a form of contraception would be wise."

Hermione's jaw fell open, outraged. She scowled severely at Lucius before the words flew from her mouth. " _My nature?!"_ she cried. "It was _you..."_

Lucius looked at her commandingly, interrupting her with simple words. "Close your mouth, Miss Granger."

Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she cursed the binding internally for taking away her ability to defend herself. Her face was flaming with rage and embarrassment as she stared at the elder Malfoy with hatred blazing in her eyes.

The Healer had his back to Hermione and missed her reaction completely. Lucius cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused with her wonderfully ferocious expression, and continued. "Relax, Miss Granger. It's my job to care for you. Lay back and close your eyes."

Lucius watched with a smidge of guilt and a lot of relief as her facial muscles relaxed. She simply rested back into her pillows and closed her eyes.

He looked back at the Healer. "What are her options?"

The Healer looked slightly uncomfortable and shot a glance back at Hermione. "I really should be discussing this with her..."

Lucius interrupted him, his tone condescending. "Healer Jacobs, this witch is here under my care at the directive of the Dark Lord. Perhaps you would like to explain to _him_ your reservations?"

Once again, the man paled. "No! Heavens no. That won't be necessary."

After a brief education on the available forms of contraception, Lucius decided on a weekly potion. He didn't want anything more frequent because it would be tedious and he didn't want anything long term in case the Dark Lord were to desire her pregnant in the future.

The Healer took his leave as quickly as possible after providing a month's worth of potions. Lucius watched Hermione's petite form for a long while after the Healer was gone. She was still in the position he had commanded of her. Guilt increasing a bit, Lucius had to admit that the complete control over another human being was not nearly as pleasurable as one may think. Startled, he abruptly realized she had tears slipping down her temples.

"You may do as you please, now, Miss Granger," Lucius said quickly, his voice gruff. Immediately, she unhinged her jaw and gasped in a deep breath that choked on a startling sob as she rolled away from him.

"Heaven's, child," he said, trying to keep the panicked sound out of his voice at her sudden demeanor change. "What on earth is the matter?"

"Just go!" Her cry was half sob, half begging, and all hatred.

Lucius gritted his teeth at her insolence. Like hell he was going to leave when he didn't know what was wrong. "Is it your head? Do you need a headache potion?"

She didn't answer and he sighed heavily. "Please tell me what is wrong, Miss Granger. I will endeavor to remedy the problem."

These words seemed to spur some sort of enraged reaction from her. Hermione rolled and literally leapt from the bed, wild hair curling out at all angles from her head and face. She was wearing a lavender colored, silk, cap sleeved nightgown that clung to her every curve. He swallowed hard as a finger was pointed at him accusingly. " _Fix it_? You think you can _fix this_?! Do you really want to know what's wrong?" She didn't wait for an answer as she advanced on him, finger still raised. "I will tell _you_ what's wrong!" Her finger collided with his chest. " _YOU_ are what's wrong! You and your abomination of a human being _son,_ are what's wrong. You and _him_ having so much bloody control over me and my actions is what's _wrong_. More control than I think even you realize! What's wrong is that I thought _you had left without undoing your commands!"_

Somewhere in the back of his mind Lucius knew he should not be allowing her to speak to him like this, but for some reason he was unable to stop her.

"Your commands that made me keep my mouth shut, on my back, with my eyes closed, and _relax_! Do you have any idea what my day would have been like if you had left without removing your inane control from me? Everyone would have thought I was sleeping! I wouldn't have been able to ask for help!" She broke off as another angry sob left her chest and whirled away from him, grasping her hair in frustration. "It was your bloody fucking son putting that god-damned Silencio on me, and leaving me to scrub a floor on my hands and knees for six fucking hours, all over again!"

Lucius watched her temper tantrum (and he could admittedly see why he was being raged at) with utter fascination. She was articulate and intelligent and completely…captivating…when angry. Not even her vulgarity bothered him.

Her cheeks were flushed hot pink, those brilliant eyes sparked with life and fury. She was wonderfully furious, Lucius could feel her magic crackling around the room. Her rant continued. "Only this time _– this time_ – I would have been forced to eventually lay in my piss for a while and not eat until supper. I suppose that's only suitable punishment for a dirty little _Mudblood_ , though, huh?"

Lucius winced internally when she called herself a Mudblood, flashing back to when he called her princess. _"That's nice,"_ she had said _. "Makes me feel almost…human."_

He realized she was still screaming at him a few minutes later, he had apparently tuned out her words, spellbound by her presence and gestures. In another life, in an alternate universe, he would have hauled her into that huge bed to tame her, to calm her fire with delicious heat and sweet words in her ears. Alas, it was not to be. As enchanting as he found her in this state of undress, full of uninhibited ferociousness, he unfortunately had to get to work.

It was time to put an end to her histrionics, even if they were somewhat justified. He would not allow any witch to talk to him in such a way, much less a bound Mudblood captive. He reached out and snatched the wrist of the hand that had returned to point painfully into his pectorals. "That is quite enough, Miss Granger," he growled. She stilled, eyes widening in obvious fear. For the second time in as many days he wondered if he were really, truly that terrifying. Instead of apologizing for her fear, he growled at her, making her jump.

"In the future, it would be best you do not take that tone of voice with me or there will be…consequences." He watched regretfully as her eyes dulled, the fire abruptly going out. The sheen of wetness they portrayed a couple of seconds later unsettled him. "That being said, my dear, you have made your point quite clearly. I will be more cautious with my commands in the future." Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth fell slightly open. Pleased by her reaction, he added, "I will go one step further and give you a directive now – if you are forgotten about for more than two hours, I command that you are to be released from whatever you are doing. If this happens, you are to seek me out and tell me afterwards. Do you understand?"

She gave a startled nod before tentatively pulling at her wrist. He released it, frowning when he saw the reddened skin there as she raised her other hand to rub it. He hadn't meant to hurt her.

"I must get to work, Miss Granger," he said softly after a minute of silence where she stared at him warily. "Draco will be out for the entire day, you need not worry about him. Tinny will see to any of your needs. Help yourself to the little library here," he gestured to the bookcases that flanked the fire place. "I do hope you enjoy your free time, you will be joining us for dinner at seven o'clock. Wear something nice."

He spun on his heel and stalked to the door. Pausing under the frame, he sent a tentative glance back at her. She was gaping at him. "I am glad you are better, Miss Granger." Then, he was gone, leaving behind a very perplexed Gryffindor.

Exhaustion reclaiming her, Hermione climbed back into her bed, contemplating what had just happened. Lucius Malfoy was really beginning to confuse her. He wasn't a monster, but he wasn't a good man, either. He had raped her, after all. However, he seemed to be reasonable, if not nice. Reasonable was perfectly good with her. She could live with reasonable. He seemed to not wish her actual harm, at least not serious harm.

Draco, on the other hand, Draco was sub-human. He wasn't just abusive, he got off on it. He was a true psychopath. He had no conscience and had little regard for the feelings of others, including his supposed girlfriend, Pansy. He had lied to the girl and manipulated her so easily, seemingly without a second thought. She realized she needed to tread lightly around him. It would be best if she could learn to ignore his taunts. If she could become boring to him, maybe he would leave her alone. Maybe he would grow tired of his new toy, as most spoiled children were prone to do.

A toy. _Is that really what I've become? Is that all I'll ever be the rest of my life?_ Was Draco right? Would the rest of her life be condemned to being, what was it he had said? _"A vessel for the pleasure of better wizards?"_ No. She scolded herself for even considering it _. You will not let him win_.

She tossed onto her side, angrily staring at the wall. She promised herself right then and there that Draco Malfoy would not get the best of her. He would not destroy her spirit or her intellect. He may have use of her body, but he would not destroy her mind. She needed to remind herself of that truth, and knew she would need to do so frequently. Certainly, as long as she stayed under his control.

* * *

Nine hours later, it was six-fifty in the evening and Hermione was expected for dinner. She absently stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror Tinny had conjured. She was freshly bathed, shaved, buffed and dressed in what most witches would be giddy to be wearing. Her hair was not braided tonight, but had been charmed into soft, large curls. Hermione marveled at how long her hair had grown.

The dress was pink silk, light and flowing. It hugged her breasts, small waist and hips, and then draped to the floor. It even had a small train. The neckline was a low V-cut that dipped down between her breasts, the front of the loose sleeves came to her wrists, the back draped with the full length of the gown to the floor. The large opal pendant necklace and earrings were beautiful, especially against the pink silk of her gown, the color picking up the fire in the opals. Tinny really knew how to dress her up, but the elf had been dressing Malfoy wives for a hundred years. Hermione looked at the jewelry, wondering what Malfoy matriarchs would think about a _Mudblood_ (she internally rolled her eyes) wearing the family jewels.

Chancing a glance around the portraits in her suite, she found she actually _was_ being watched. An elderly looking witch with silver-grey hair in a loose chignon, a kind face and Victorian era gown was observing her with curiosity. Hermione contemplated saying something, but dropped the idea when her heart started to race a little as her seven o'clock dinner summons began to plague her. She looked around the large suite and spotted a glowing parchment beside the door on the far side of the suite.

A portkey ride later she stood directly outside of the dining room doors. Her summons was still calling her, so she knew she needed to act more quickly, but was nervous. This would be her first time seeing Draco in almost forty-eight hours. She placed both palms flat on the hinged French doors, took a deep breath, and pushed her way through. Head held high, feeling more like herself than she had in weeks and weeks, she felt almost haughty when both Malfoy men stood, watching her with barely hidden lust. Well, she shouldn't say that. Draco was leering at her, lust clearly in his eyes. Lucius, however…he was looking at her with a soft, almost appreciative gaze. It made her feel pretty and she was disappointed in herself to realize this pleased her. Why should his appreciation or approval matter _? Let's face it Hermione, you have a penchant for wanting to please…for getting the right answer…for belonging._

She confidently (even though she was a trembling mess inside) made her way to what she was beginning to think of as "her" chair. Lucius immediately stepped next to it and pulled it out from the table. He offered his hand to help her sit, and Hermione felt her body automatically respond to the polite gesture as she hand been commanded. His hand was cool and soft, making her self-conscious of her sweaty palms.

"You look lovely tonight, Miss Granger," he said softly in her ear as he pushed her chair in for her. Hermione swallowed nervously before replying.

"Thank you." Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. That would not do. She raised her fist to her mouth and delicately cleared her throat to try again. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

He nodded his approval as he returned to his seat.

"I have to admit, Granger," Draco's tone was unnaturally smooth and almost…polite. "My father is right, you are much more pleasing on the eyes when you're not covered with bruises. Perhaps you will stop acting in such a manner that lands you with more, now that you're feeling better?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I will," she answered primly. "No promises, however." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucius smirk. Feeling the pull of being watched intently, her eyes glanced back to Draco. He was indeed staring at her, a knowing look on his face and a hint of a malicious smile.

"Now, now," Lucius said after a brief break in the conversation. "Let us all try and remain cordial." Just as those words were spoken, the customary silver domes appeared in front of them along with a crack of apparation and Bilby.

Five minutes later, Hermione was staring at her dinner, mouth watering. A New York strip steak was topped with glazed onions and Manhattan sauce. More delightful than that presentation, however, was it also sported two, huge, seared sea scallops sprinkled with fresh chives. It was presented on a bed of crisp asparagus. There was a separate plate with a dinner roll that had a pat of butter melting on top.

Hermione almost burst into tears at the sheer beauty of it. She loved seafood. For over the last year, meals had been scarce. When they'd had enough to eat, it was always simple. Something scrounged together. Something easy like scrambled eggs, peanut butter sandwiches, the occasional spaghetti night. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten scallops.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" Lucius frowned at her. He was hoping that her appetite would pick up now that she was healed. She was entirely too thin from her weeks of captivity.

"No," she whispered. "No, nothing is wrong. This looks wonderful."

"Are you going to stare at it all night, or are you going to eat? You know we have to wait until the _lady_ of the house starts her meal." Again, except for the sarcastic inflection on the word "lady," Draco's tone was pleasant…almost teasing. Hermione eyed him carefully for a moment before picking up her fork and knife and slicing into a scallop.

It was incredible.

Divine.

Nothing had ever tasted so good.

Ever.

She was embarrassed when a low moan of pleasure escaped her throat. Lucius, however, seemed to find it amusing. He grinned at her over his wine goblet. "You like the scallops?" he asked, watching her take another bite. Her eyes closed with pure bliss as the second bite melted on her tongue the way the first had, only better.

She swallowed and looked to him, giving him a very small, cautious smile. It was hard not to, he looked so pleased with her. "I do. I love seafood."

"We will have to put more into the rotation," Lucius said, almost off-handedly. "I've always enjoyed all sorts of seafood myself, but Narcissa – " He broke himself off, face going quite pale. Hermione looked up curiously. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to the Malfoy matriarch. She wasn't about to ask, however, especially when she saw the flushed, angry look on Draco's face. Her eyes dropped back to her plate and she took another bite in the awkward silence. Nothing was going to put her off this meal.

Lucius guardedly continued a few moments later. "Let's just suffice it to say, it was never a big favorite here."

Hermione had just finished a sip of a tart, delightful red wine. "I would eat almost any kind of seafood," she attempted to make the conversation less awkward. "Scallops are by far my favorite, however. My compliments."

Neither of the conversationalists missed the quiet, sarcastic grunt from the opposite side of the table, but neither did they seem to think it warranted a comment. The fact that Draco had not said one scathing remark since her entrance was a definite curiosity. It made her extremely nervous.

Lucius, on the other hand, was fervently pleased his tête-à-tête from earlier had seemed to make the boy feel a little guilt. He was being much kinder to Hermione – almost like his old self in polite, albeit unfavorable, company.

The meal went off without a hitch. It was mostly quiet, but the conversation exchanged was at least civil. When pudding had been served, Lucius was again delighted to find Hermione eating with a renewed vigor. Her eyes had lit spectacularly when the beautifully presented piece of tiramisu topped with fresh raspberries and blueberries appeared in front of her.

Dessert was another of Hermione's favorites, and she vaguely wondered if Tinny had something to do with the food choices this evening. She almost wept with joy for the second time that night, the flavor of the espresso and cream on her tongue burst with harmonious perfection. Thanking the elf would be her first priority when she next saw Tinny.

The silence was almost comfortable as dessert wrapped up. Then Draco chose to break it.

"You are feeling better, Miss Granger?" he said, not unkindly, watching her closely. Hermione wasn't sure what to think and glanced at Lucius for help. Lucius did not look at her, and his expression was off, almost as if he knew what was coming. A sense of foreboding filled her body.

"I am, thank you for asking," she answered softy. They had been polite all evening, she could be, too. As long as the situation warranted it.

"I'm pleased to hear that," Draco said. What only could be classified as an evil, devilish smile crossed his face. Her stomach dropped. His eyes stayed on her. "Isn't that wonderful, Father? The Mudblood is feeling better."

Hermione's face froze in a look of disinterest at the slur, pretending it had not been said. She would not let him goad her. She found herself disappointed when the older Malfoy didn't say anything. Their dinner conversation had been civil, why was he allowing Draco to turn the tide now?

"We shall have to work on your…constitution. You're rather weak to fall ill so easily." He glanced at his father, who was calmly watching him, seemingly bored. Draco returned his attention to Hermione. "The healer said we had to leave you alone for forty-eight hours." He tossed his linen napkin on the table and leaned back causally in his chair. "The way your jaw was flapping tonight, I think the healer overestimated your healing time."

"Draco," Lucius said quietly, his tone held a slight warning.

Draco rolled his eyes and then sighed as he looked at his father, "Relax, father. I won't touch her. You have made the schedule _perfectly_ clear to me. However, the Mudblood will resume her morning visits starting tomorrow."

He looked back at Hermione. "Six o'clock, Granger. Six o'clock you will go to my father and after he has had his fill, you will come to my bed and kneel beside it as I instructed."

Hermione didn't say anything, she merely stared over his shoulder at a collection of small paintings, not comprehending their subjects. She was simply using all her willpower to remain calm and not give him the satisfaction of provoking or upsetting her.

"Did you hear me?" Draco asked, speaking the words slowly and clearly, as though she were mentally incapable.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Hermione lost her temper. She slowly met his gaze. "Yes, I heard you, you priapic, sadistic flea on a turd."

There was complete and utter silence for about five seconds before Lucius Malfoy snorted an incredulous laugh. A laugh that turned completely genuine and had him clutching his stomach in under fifteen seconds.

Hermione stared at the man with wide, horrified eyes. Had she really said that aloud? Was Lucius Malfoy really laughing at what she had said? At his son's expense? Hermione looked from an almost hysterical Lucius, to Draco who was purple with his outrage. She wondered if he even knew what priapic meant, and frankly hoped that he didn't. Calling him a flea with a constant hard on was not particularly smart, even if it _was_ justified.

As Lucius' laughter died down, Draco spoke in a menacing voice. "I see you have decided not to act and speak appropriately." He gave her a slow, evil smile that sent a shudder of fear down her spine. "That's all right, Miss Granger. You'll receive your punishment in the morning." Hermione wondered if all the blood had drained from her face, it certainly felt like it had. Their gazes were locked, he obviously relished her fear, his grin did not slip. As she tried to maintain a façade of indifference externally, she scolded herself internally for her loss of control.

Lucius cleared his throat causing both pairs of eyes to look his way. He looked from Draco to Hermione, his expression looked…uneasy? "Yes, Miss Granger, Draco is correct. I do have some adaptations to your schedule, however." Hermione cringed internally. "It has been decided, and I am now giving an order, that no matter what you have been told, no matter where you are, at eleven o'clock every evening, you are free to do as you please. Be that read, sleep, bathe, etc. You will be left alone until your six-a.m. summons. Likewise, you will also have free time for one hour each day after lunch."

Hermione sat in stony silence, her face unreadable, eyes once again fixed to the artwork she wasn't really seeing. While she was pleased that she would be left alone at night, she couldn't help the bile of resentment that caused her anger to flare. Being told what to do like this, being controlled. Merlin, she would never get used to it. (Merlin help her if she ever did.) She forced herself to continue showing no emotion or evidence of frustration on her face. She would not give Draco any more ammunition to use against her in the morning. Her insult had certainly been more than enough.

There was an awkward silence. As it became uncomfortable, Lucius' expression remained indifferent as he pushed his chair back and stood, tossing his napkin on the table. "It has been a long day. I think we should each retire for the evening."

Draco stood as well, watching his father walk to Hermione's chair and assist her to stand. He smirked at Hermione. "Yes, sleep… _well_ Mudblood. You're going to need it."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Same disclaimer as always.**

**Thanks to my very talented best friend and co-writer, LissaDream. Please check out our other co-written story, _Master Mine._**

**As always, a big thanks to all who take the time to comment, leave kudos, bookmark and subscribe :)**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Instead of Apparating her back to her suite, Lucius led her through the halls by her hand. Him holding her hand gently was extremely baffling. Not seeing that old look of disgust in his eyes was even more puzzling.

Hermione began to wonder if he had an ulterior motive he hoped to achieve with his kindness. Wouldn't it make sense, though, for Draco to be kind as well – so they would have a better chance of succeeding at whatever they were trying to do? Well…unless they were playing good cop, bad cop? Her face hardened at that thought and she tugged her hand out of his grasp and stopped walking forward.

"Miss Granger?" Lucius questioned. He turned to her as she stood stock still in the elaborate hall. She could hear murmurings of whispers from the portraits that lined it. She ignored them, he did not. He glanced cautiously around, making note of who was watching.

"What is it that you want from me? What is the purpose of all this?" Hermione stated bluntly, getting right to the point. She needed to know. What could she do to get out of this mess she was in? Whatever it was, she'd do it, even if it meant she was just one step closer to dying. At least it wouldn't be this day in and day out torture of her body and soul.

"I'm afraid I am not sure what you're asking me." Lucius cocked his head to the side, studying her with new eyes. Bloody hell, the girl was smart and forthright. Her eyes were bright, her expression determined. It was obvious to him now that she hadn't been well even that first night. And why would she have been well? She had spent six weeks in a cell, living off bread and water and gruel. She hadn't seen the sun, had to live in her own filth, and had been confined to a ten by ten-foot room. She had been dragged to be presented to the Dark Lord, Crucio'd twice, raped twice, and then not allowed to sleep more than an hour at a time for the next two days while she was raped a half dozen more times. No wonder her immune system had broken down so quickly.

Her fire and spirit were stunning. The fact that she had survived this war and could still hold on to her sharp tongue and wit was a testament to the type of person she was. Priapic, sadistic flea on a turd. What a fucking intellectual insult! Although, he really shouldn't have laughed. It was most likely what had stroked Draco's ire.

"Like hell you don't know what I mean!" she snapped, her hands fisting at her sides in her anger.

In a quick movement that startled her by evidence of a squeak, Lucius reached out and snatched her jaw in one of his hands. He wasn't unnecessarily brutal, but he wasn't tender or gentle, either. It was a show of dominance at its finest. "We spoke this morning about the way you address me, girl," he told her in a dangerous tone. Why did it bother him when her eyes dropped, when the color drained from her face, when she jerked out of his grasp?

"You will be respectful to me, as I have been respectful to you." Lucius ignored her snort of disbelief. She really didn't realize how controlled he had been with her. Perhaps he should make her understand? Part of him wanted to lash out at her, to make her regret not fearing him the way she should. If he had to be, he could be just as cruel as Draco. More so. He didn't want to be, though. He was tired of the violence. Seeing fear in her lovely eyes was the last thing he desired. "Do you understand, Miss Granger?!" Again, his tone was cold, a touch of cruelty evident.

"Yes," she said sharply. "I understand, Mr. Malfoy." Their eyes were locked onto each other's and Lucius found himself disappointed he had been forced to play this hand.

He chose to ignore her tone and started walking again. "To answer your question," he said after a few moments of silence in which he could hear her heels clacking softly against the floor as she followed him. "It is not for me to tell you what the Dark Lord wants. He will tell you when he's ready."

She didn't answer, and she didn't ask any more questions. After a long stretch of silence and walking, Lucius arrived at his suite and pushed the door open, beckoning her inside. Her eyes looked wild, and he realized that she didn't know this was the easiest way into the mistress's chamber. She probably thought he had brought her here to have his way with her. Damned if he didn't want to, either. The way she was done up tonight was delectable. Her hair done in long, soft curls, his fingers itched to sink into the tresses. He gave himself a mental shake.

"Your chamber is through here," he told her softly. Walking over to a blank stretch of wall, he tapped a small knot on the woodwork with the tip of his wand. An archway appeared and he stepped aside to let Hermione through. He didn't miss the relieved look on her face.

Carefully, she studied him for a moment before whispering. "You are unexpected, Mr. Malfoy." Then she quickly disappeared into the room, the enchantment closing behind her almost instantly.

"As are you, Miss Granger," he replied to the empty suite.

* * *

Hermione was happy to find Tinny waiting for her. The elf helped Hermione out of her dress and into an emerald, silk camisole nightgown that came to her mid-thigh. She studied her reflection as she brushed her teeth. After she wiped her mouth she looked at Tinny who was standing expectantly beside her, holding a vial with a potion she needed to take. Hermione knew better than to ask her question before swallowing the said potion. Tinny may be small, but Hermione had never met a more determined or fastidious elf.

Handing the empty vial back to her unexpected friend, she asked. "Tinny, my first night I slept in a sheath that could barely count as a gown, and now I find myself sleeping in silk and satin. Why the change?"

Tinny set the empty vial aside and handed Hermione her next potion. "Malfoy Manor has great magic. The rooms and the wardrobes adapt to the Master's desires. When good witch first comes, the guest suite presented Tinny with what the Manor felt the masters would chooses." She took the now empty flask from Hermione and continued. "The next night, Tinnys finds pretty gowns in night drawer." Tinny and Hermione walked out of the bathroom into the expansive suite. "When Tinnys brings good witch to mistress suite, Tinny finds clothes and jewelries Tinny would find in Madam Malfoy's wardrobes."

Hermione thought about that as she stepped on the step stool and climbed into the inviting bed. She wondered what had changed. Why did the Manor feel Lucius and Draco would want her dressed like this? Perhaps it was simply because she was in the Mistress suite?

As she sank down into the soft sheets, welcoming mattress, and plush comforter, she drifted off to sleep before she could give it much more thought. Little did she know, Tinny had handed her an extra potion, a calming draught mixed with just a pinch of dreamless sleep. As of tonight, she was finished with her potions, and Tinny would have no need to wake her for further doses.

Hermione awoke the next morning to soft light filtering into her suite. She lazily opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Five-thirty. Yawning and stretching, and having to pee, she slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom where she emptied her bladder and brushed her teeth. She stepped back into her suite and turned to her right, curious about the balcony. The door opened easily and she drew in a breath of surprise at the beauty before her. The sun was just rising over the pasture in front of her. Soft clouds of vapor and mist hovered over the green grass. Twinkles of light reflected off the pool water as birds chirped loudly from the scattered massive trees around the grounds.

The irony caused her to laugh without humor. A foreboding Mansion of torture and rape surrounded by serenity and beauty. Sort of like her battered and bruised body dressed in formal gowns.

She looked around the balcony. Beautiful cast iron chairs, a love seat, and a table were arranged so that one might enjoy breakfast or time in the sun. The cushions were damp, but would dry quickly once the sun beat down on them for a bit. It would be lovely to sit out here with a cup of tea and good book. _Ha! As if you'll ever have that opportunity_. Then she remembered that every day, for an hour after lunch, she could do as she pleased.

She stepped back inside, realizing she still had a few minutes until the bond would pull her to the older, mercurial Malfoy. She stepped over to the bookshelves and glanced at the titles. "Madam Bovary," "The Awakening," "Candide." As she glanced at the other titles, she realized they were all pre-twentieth century releases and were scandalous muggle fiction in their time. She was disappointed to find very little that interested her. There was nothing academic and very little that pertained to the wizarding world. She wondered when this suite was last used and why there was so much muggle literature.

She didn't wonder for long, though, as the pull to Lucius was taking hold. This time, there was no parchment. She knew the door at the foot of her bed led to his suite and that's where the compulsion led her. She found the door open and his suite dark. It took her eyes a minute to adjust, but she could just make out the shape of his large four poster on the other side of the expansive space.

As she stepped through, the door magically disappeared behind her, leaving an archway that morphed into a blank stretch of wall. She turned back towards the bed, swallowing her apprehension. Perhaps she was a fool, but she didn't think Lucius would hurt her. He didn't scare her, not like his son.

She climbed into his bed the same way as before, by stepping on the footboard and grabbing the corner post to hoist herself up. She remembered how difficult it had been last time. She remembered how sore she had been, how tender and battered she had felt. This time, it was much easier and she was much less afraid. She would do as he ordered, nothing more and nothing less. She felt no shame, only frustration and resentment.

She crawled up the bed until she was laying close to him and the pull of the bond relented its force. She lay still, this time letting her head fall gently on the pillow next to his. She closed her eyes, hoping he would simply sleep and leave her alone. He shifted next to her, but seemed to still be sleeping. She rolled onto her left side, facing away from him. After a couple minutes she began to drift off to sleep.

Her eyes shot open when she felt him move up closer behind her, and a large, warm hand slid around her waist. Lucius' fingers rubbed her flat stomach, bunching the fabric of her green, satin gown. His voice was raspy from sleep. "Why are you wearing this? Take it off."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she shimmied the gown up her body and pulled it over her head, tossing it at the foot of the bed. She lay back down, once again on her left side. He pulled her close so that she was pressed up against him. His hand once again rubbing her now bare stomach before moving up to cup her breast. "Rest, kitten. It's Saturday," he whispered. He was still as he lay behind her and after a couple minutes she could hear the soft even breathing indicating he had fallen back to sleep.

Again, this man confused her. Again, she couldn't help but think that he was entirely not what she had suspected him to be. Her jumbled, whirring thoughts prevented her from slipping back into sleep for a long time. She was startled at one point when Lucius' hand moved from her breast to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him before throwing a leg over her body. He was naked, as well, and she could feel his semi hard erection pressing into her bum. _Here we go,_ she though, a thrill of trepidation danced up her spine. He settled back in, though, and his breathing returned to the evenness of sleep. He was warm, and the gentle, human contact was as comforting as it was peculiar. Eventually it lulled her back to sleep.

Lucius woke, feeling slightly off kilter, a while later. He was warm, a bit too warm, if he wasn't mistaken. There was something on his face. Starting to reach up, he realized his arm was stuck. Moving the other instead, he cracked his eyes open. A mass of riotous brown curls covered more than half his face, he brushed them away in surprise. He was even more shocked when he took in the position of the girl. At some point, they had shifted. Lucius was laying on his back, and Hermione…he swallowed hard…the Mudblood was wrapped around _him._ Her face was pressed again his chest, one of her arms tucked behind his shoulders while the other wrapped around his stomach. She had one leg entangled with his. Her breathing was deep, and peaceful.

Carefully, he brushed her hair out of her face. He was relieved to find that her lovely features were no longer covered in bruises. The gash on her head was mostly obscured where her face pressed into his chest, but what he could see looked pale pink. It appeared she would have a small scar. The displeasure that thought caused to course through him was as disconcerting as Hermione all snuggled up to him like she was. He shifted awkwardly and heard her breathing change slightly. He paused, not really sure he wanted to wake her. Very slowly, he slid himself out from underneath her and made his way to the bathroom. He relieved himself and washed his hands. Taking a deep breath, he fought with his own internal demons before deciding it was best to just get this over with.

He hesitated, though, upon returning to his chamber. She had shifted, but appeared to still be sleeping. She was on her back, hair sprawled all over his pillows. The sheet had pulled down, revealing her beautiful breasts. The cool air had her nipples standing erect. He swiped a hand down his face. Bloody fuck, if she wasn't undeniably appealing. One of her arms was laying palm up above to her head, the other wrapped lightly over her abdomen. One leg was hidden away under the blankets, but the other sprawled at an angle on the outside of the sheets. Lucius' body reacted hungrily, his cock springing to life. He closed his eyes. _Just get it over with,_ he told himself for the second time in less than ten minutes. He crawled up onto the bed, slowly smoothing a palm up her slender leg, over her abdomen to a breast. It was smooth and heavy in his palm.

Instantly, every thought of quickly moving through the motions flew from his mind. A determination settled into his soul; a disquieting need to make her enjoy this, to give her pleasure, overtook him. Unthinkingly, he went with it, dipping his head to gently nibble at one taught nipple. It hardened further as he laved it with his tongue. A small noise left her, but she didn't wake. He slowly slid the blankets down her body, leaving her completely bare. Reluctantly, he turned his attention away from her breasts and moved between her legs, gently spreading them. He slipped a finger through her nether lips, parting them. She was slightly wet and the uninhibited, innocent reaction she was having to his touch while she slept made his heart race.

He trailed his fingers up her thighs, pushing them further apart and was just about to put his mouth on her when he noticed wide, luminescent eyes starting at him warily. "What are you doing?" she whispered fearfully.

"I'm going to make you feel good, Miss Granger," he answered just as softly. "Please, don't fight me. Give in to the sensation."

Knowing his words wouldn't give her a choice made him feel guilt he didn't want. He was surprised to see her give him a slight nod before she let her eyes flutter shut. Lucius didn't question it. This was much easier for both of them when she didn't resist. Leisurely, he slid a flattened tongue into her folds, loving the gasp she wasn't able to smother. He sought out her clit, flicking it gently with his tongue, pulling another licentious sound from her. He worked her clit until her hips were rolling of their own accord. He almost pulled away from her as if burned when he felt tentative fingers on his head. Lucius glanced up at her and was thrilled to see uncertain, but glazed eyes staring back at him. He returned to her clit, not missing the way her head fell back. He did miss the tears in her eyes, though. Tears that would have told him this was not wanted, that it was incredibly confusing. Desperation for the release of the delicious coil that was winding in her womb, coupled with the feeling of revulsion for the way he was making her body respond, was tearing her apart.

Lucius slipped two fingers into her, a moan rumbling from his lips to her core when he found her drenched. He curled his fingers against the bumpy expanse of her g-spot. The muscles of her inner walls exploded almost immediately, her hips arching from the bed as she let out a desperate little whimper, her breathing heavy and erratic. He didn't wait, just hooked her legs with his arms as he slid up her body and into her.

Seeing Hermione's face fully, guilt crashed down on him. Her eyes were squeezed tight, dampness on her temples, and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, bloodless with the fierceness of her attempts not to cry out. It was infuriating, the way this little Mudblood wench made his composure crack. He nuzzled her neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down the tendons that stood out, trying to get her to relax again without giving her an order and taking away her free will.

It was all Hermione could do not to cry out when she felt him stretching her apart with his cock. Now that she was no longer tender and sore, it was just unparalleled sensation. With him being so gentle and giving, the feeling was filled with unwelcomed pleasure. She clamped down on her lip hard, stifling a moan as he grazed that spot inside of her that was magical. It had to be magical…what it did to her was… _oh, gods_!

His mouth was on her neck, and unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her short nails digging into them. Whimpers left her throat without her permission. His breath was ragged and hot on her collar bone. His speed picked up and he used his hand to encourage her to wrap her legs around his waist, before sliding it between their bodies to stimulate her clit some more. She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t protesting, but she didn’t and then…oh, fuck! She was coming again. Again?! Tears leaked out her closed eyes. Why did her body betray her like this? She didn't want this, she…oh, oh, fuck. Why did it feel good when she didn't want it?

Lucius couldn't believe how calm she was, he expected her to rage at him, to ask him to stop as she had both times they had been together previously. He was prepared for it (or thought he was), but she remained quiet, with the exception of the little gasps and whimpers she wasn't able to swallow. When he brought her to climax the second time, he let himself go, quickly following suit with a low, rumbled groan in his throat, claiming her completely. He rolled off her fairly quickly, letting her roll away from him to compose herself.

An unsettling feeling of shame coursed through him as he watched her. She curled into an impossibly tiny ball, her face occluded by her curls. Kindly, he pulled a blanket over her to give her some sort of dignity.

"I have to go," she said quietly. The sound of terror in her voice confused him further. "I have to go to Draco." Suddenly, she was scrambling. She pulled herself to the edge of the bed, rounding the foot quickly and snatching up her nightgown.

"What are your directives from Draco?" A terrifying feeling of protectiveness washed over him as he observed her. She avoided his eyes. "Tell me, Miss Granger."

"When you are through with me, I am to go to his room and kneel by his bed until he wakes. I am not allowed to wake him. He will fuck one of my _orifices_ ," she spat the word. "Then I'm to bathe him." The words left her mouth without conscious thought even as her cheeks heated with embarrassment, but her heart was starting to race with discomfort.

"You can relax, Miss Granger," he said. Lucius' voice was clipped, trying to hide the frustration he had with his son. "I am not through with you. On Saturday mornings, we eat breakfast in our rooms. Draco usually doesn't have breakfast until closer to ten-thirty. It is only a quarter to eight. You will go shower, and then you will eat with me. Casual attire is perfectly acceptable for this morning." He paused, watching the relief that sagged her body. Well, at least he knew she preferred his company to his son's…not that that was saying much.

Hermione almost burst into tears when the pull of the bond suddenly disappeared. Apparently, Lucius could override Draco's orders. The reprieve he was granting her was precious. Granted, it _was_ only prolonging the inevitable, but … at least he was saving her from two plus hours of kneeling on the floor.

"I will see you back here in forty minutes, Miss Granger," he told her softly. When Hermione looked at him she swore she saw a flash of sympathy cross his face before it became an unreadable mask.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered, and started to move towards the blank expanse of wall where the door to the mistress suite was hidden. When nothing happened, she looked back to him. He was watching her expectantly. "Um…Mr. Malfoy…how do I get back…?"

"The password is _Domina Gloria_ ," he said, a small smirk passed over his features. "Not that I expect you to be honored by this, Miss Granger, but you are the first woman to use that room in over a hundred years."

Her face darkened, and Lucius almost smiled with glee. Damn, he loved seeing her riled up. "How _wonderful_ ," she said with no little hint of snark before muttering the password and disappearing through the archway.

* * *

Hermione's head was still spinning with the conundrum that was Lucius Malfoy. Their breakfast had been almost…nice. He had shared his paper with her. They had simply eaten together in comfortable silence. Reading, like any normal couple might do on a Saturday morning. Only they were anything but, a _normal_ couple. The sex had been…frustrating. Frustrating and…wonderful. She didn't want it, but knew it would do no good to ask him to stop. So, her plan had been to simply lay there and take it. Until, and it pained her to admit this, until she felt the desire to put her arms around him. Until she could no longer deny that what he was doing felt incredible. She had let herself imagine this was something she wanted, something she had some control over, something she desired. It was an illusion, but it helped.

It was rape, but it wasn't brutal or painful or… _stop it, Hermione. It was rape!_ _And now you have to go to his son, the devil himself, and who's to say Lucius isn't the devil in sheep's clothing? The truth is, you know nothing, Hermione!_

No longer able to resist the pull, she placed her hand on the glowing parchment in her suite. She knew this was going to be…difficult? Degrading? Painful? All of the above? _You and your big mouth. You need to learn to hold your tongue! What the hell were you thinking insulting him like that?_

When she landed in his suite, she slowly turned to face the large space. The bed was made and he was nowhere to be seen. She slowly stepped forward, wondering where he was and internally prayed he had gone out, perhaps forgetting about her.

"Ahh, the Mudblood has decided to grace me with her presence." Hermione nearly jumped in surprise as he stepped out of his closet, to her right. His face was stone, expressionless. His voice devoid of emotion. He seemed so much taller all of a sudden. She swallowed as she looked up at his towering form. "It's only..." He looked toward the clock. "…ten-thirty." He stepped back, looking her up and down. "Father kept you occupied for four and a half hours?"

Hermione didn't know how to answer. She opted for cautiously. "Yes, he kept me under his control until we finished breakfast, which was just now."

A flash of irritation broke through his stone façade. "You already ate? He fed you?"

She shifted her feet nervously. "Uh, yeah. We ate in his suite."

"Well, I have not eaten and had insisted the kitchen elves prepare a _special_ breakfast, just for you." The right side of his mouth curled up in a crooked grin. "No matter, another time."

"I see you are dressed for the day." He cocked an eyebrow as he scanned down the teal gown that hugged her chest and waist in silk, flaring out at the hips as it draped to the floor. It was sleeveless and a light shawl of matching silk and lace draped over her shoulders and arms.

His eyes went back to hers. "You really shouldn't have bothered. Take it off, now."

He stepped away, slipping off his outer robes. Thankfully, this dress buttoned up the side. As she unbuttoned it, he stepped back into his closet, hanging up his robes. The dress and shawl were sliding to the floor as he reappeared and slowly approached her.

"You are not permitted to wear panties. Take them off and don't let me find you wearing them again."

She internally rolled her eyes as she slid them down her legs, leaving her naked. The minute she stood back up, she saw stars as he slapped her so hard she fell to the floor. Her hand shot to her left cheek and tears stung her eyes from the pain. He leaned over her. "If you _ever_ insult me at the dinner table again, or in front of another person, I will beat you black and blue. Do you understand, Mudblood?"

She nodded as she continued cradling her cheek trying to stifle the tears still threatening to spill.

"Not good enough, Mudblood." He grabbed her hair and yanked her up until she was standing on her tip toes, his eyes dark with disgust and hatred. "Say it, you filthy whore."

The words came out broken and choked, "I, I un..understand."

He held her in the same position, her scalp burning with pain. "See that you do, Mudblood." After another few seconds, he released her.

Hermione's hands moved to her head and began to rub her tender scalp. He turned and walked towards his desk where he picked up a magazine.

"I've been reading about punishments. Punishments some women get off on." He was leaning against his desk with his ankles crossed as he flipped through the pages. "I feel like practicing."

His eyes moved from the magazine to the bed. "Go to the bed. Keep your feet on the floor and lay your stomach, left cheek flat on the mattress."

Hermione's body responded to his command, and her legs headed to the bed without her giving it a conscious thought. While her body was quick to respond and was in the present, her brain was reeling with anger at him and at herself for provoking him last night. Her cheek and scalp were still burning and now she was going to have Lord knows what prevailed upon her.

As soon as she was in position, he stalked up behind her and began to rub her bottom. He continued in a conversational tone, as though they were friends. "So, apparently, I'm supposed to spank you lightly a few times to warm up your skin."

She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath, mentally preparing herself for the first hit. She felt a slap come on her left butt cheek and then her right. Four more slaps came down in different spots, each harder than the one before. It was starting to sting when he stepped back.

"Well, I'll admit your ass is nice and pink but, my hand hurts. That won't do." Once again, his tone was conversational. She didn't respond. She heard him pick up a magazine and begin flipping pages. She remained still, dreading what might come next.

"Oh yeah, need to see if you're..." He said the words softly to himself as his hand reached between her legs and rubbed her. He sighed. "Nope, not wet."

"Maybe a different magazine." She heard him toss one down and pick another up. He began to read aloud. "Number one, talk to your partner. Communication is key. Tell her what you desire and ask her what she desires." He paused. "That's not so hard." He leaned forward and peeked at her. "Mudblood, I desire to spank you and you desire to be spanked." He straightened back up. "Ok, that step is done."

"Number two. Set some rules and discuss your limits." He was quiet for a minute. "Limits. Uh, Mudblood, what are your limits? None? Perfect!" He chuckled, "I don't have any either. See how compatible we are?" Hermione knew better than to speak.

"Number three. Choose a safeword that will put an immediate stop to the situation." He let out bark of a laugh. "Well, that's just silly. If I want to stop, I'll stop." Hermione heard him toss the magazine aside. "Ok, I think I'm ready."

She heard him let out a frustrated, pained hiss. "Fuck. I'm being summoned." He stepped back. "Stand up, quickly!" His voice was urgent, slightly panicked, the teasing cockiness of only a moment ago was long gone. "Look at me," he demanded. Hermione was confused as she slid off the bed and turned to him. He studied her face and then waved his wand over her left cheek as he whispered an incantation. After a satisfied nod, he added, "you are not allowed to tell _anyone_ I hit you. You are not allowed to tell anyone your face is sore or that you are in pain. Go back to your suite, Mudblood, I'll come for you later."

* * *

Two hours later, Hermione was smiling at Tinny as the small elf smiled back. "Dobby was always helping Tinnys like that." The elf continued brushing Hermione's long hair.

"Oh, Tinny. Thank you for being my friend. You are the one bright spot to my otherwise miserable time here in this God-forsaken Manor."

Tinny beamed at her in the mirror. "Good witch deserves to be happy and Tinny is honored to have good witch call Tinny her friend."

Tinny and Hermione both froze as the figure appeared in the mirror behind them.

"Tinny, what did you call her? What did you call the Mudblood?" Draco's voice wasn't loud and it wasn't threatening. Which made it even more terrifying. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed. His body language wasn't threatening, but his eyes betrayed him. There was no mistaking the calculated hatred.

Tinny's tiny form trembled as she looked up at the foreboding and towering presence of the younger Malfoy. Her voice was shaky. "Tinny called the young Miss good witch."

Draco pursed his lips as if in casual thought. Quietly, almost a whisper, he said, "Hmm, _good witch_."

Slowly, he pushed himself away from the door frame and stepped closer. Hermione kept her face expressionless as fear and trepidation caused her heart to race. His eyes met hers in the mirror as Tinny jumped off the step stool behind Hermione's chair.

Draco waved his wand, magicking the step stool away. He moved closer behind Hermione, holding his hand out to the terrified elf. Tinny handed the brush to him.

Draco cocked his head to the side as he studied Hermione in the mirror, as though he were contemplating her. He gently stroked the brush down her hair. "Good witch, you say?" Neither elf nor Hermione said anything as Draco continued to gently brush Hermione's hair in meticulous strokes.

His voice was slow and condescending. He spoke as though he were teaching a basic principle to a small child. "Tinny, what you need to understand, is that this _thing_ in front of me is hardly a witch. She's a Mudblood." His strokes began to be rougher and Hermione's head was slightly jerked backwards with each swipe of the brush, she forced herself not to looked down at the elf. "Say it with me." He raised his eyebrows and smiled evilly at the small creature. "Muuuuddddbloooood." He drew the word out slowly. "Say it, Tinny."

Tinny swallowed and said in a soft voice, "Mudblood."

"Very good," Draco said as his eyes went back to Hermione's in the mirror. "In this case, this particular Mudblood, isn't _just_ a Mudblood. She's a Mudblood _whore_." He looked back at the elf and smiled maliciously. "Say it, Tinny."

Tinny looked from Draco to Hermione and back at Draco before whispering, her voice trembling with terror. "Mudblood whore."

Draco watched Hermione in the mirror for a minute, an evil expression still on his face. Hermione had stopped listening to him and was trying to think about anything other than the words coming out of his mouth. She hated how cruel this bastard was being to her only friend in the world. At least, the only friend she had contact with. It wouldn't do to think on it, though, it would only make the situation worse.

She stared at Draco so hard he was blurry in the mirror as she recited her favorite Shakespeare comedy in her head..

 _Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour_  
_Draws on apace; four happy days bring in_  
_Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow_  
_This old moon wanes!_

"Muuuuddddbloooood." He drew the word out slowly. "Say it, Tinny."

 _Don't listen!_ Hermione drew a breath as she imagined the scene before her; Theseus holding Hippolyta in his arms as he continued speaking.

 _She lingers my desires,_  
_Like to a step-dame or a dowager_  
_Long withering out a young man revenue_.

"She's a Mudblood whore. Say it, Tinny." _Ignore him, Hermione. Hippolyta, think of Hippolyta_. She let out a breath as she maintained her stoic face while her brain recited the next phrase.

 _Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;_  
_Four nights will quickly dream away the time;_  
_And then the moon, like to a silver bow_  
_New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night_  
_Of our solemnities._

Ignoring the trembling voice of her little friend, ignoring the hand that was now fisting itself into the back of her head, pulling her hair, causing her already tender scalp to scream, she continued with her distraction. Theseus…Theseus then says,

 _Go, Philostrate,_  
_Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;_  
_Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;_

"Say it again, Tinny. Mudblood whore." _Don't Listen!_

 _Turn melancholy forth to funerals;_  
_The pale companion is not for our pomp_

Draco yanked her head back painfully, one hand rubbing down the front of her gown, under the neckline, over her breast. Roughly, he twisted her tender flesh. "Mudblood whore is what this filth is, Tinny. She's not a _good witch."_

 _Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,_  
_And won thy love, doing thee injuries;_  
_But I will wed thee in another key,_  
_With pomp, with triumph and with reveling._

"You are forbidden to call her good witch. If you call her that again you will be punished severely." Her heart began to pound in her chest, anger beginning to boil _. Hermione stop, concentrate!_ Yes, she would think of Egeus. Think of his entrance,

_Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke!_

"You are forbidden to speak to her, at all. Forbidden to do more than bathe, feed and dress her." _No! Shit, stay calm...stay calm._ Still trying to mentally evict his presence, she ignored his other hand as it grabbed the beautiful teal fabric of her dress, ripping it open to reveal her breasts. Her body responded automatically and without thought when he commanded, "Stand up, Mudblood. Turn around and kneel before me…before your superior, your better, your master." _Just do it, don't think!_ Her body did that on its own already, though. Her body always did what it was commanded to do by the Malfoy men. It did it without a conscious thought.

On her knees before him, she was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything. "Now, Mudblood whore, undo my belt, take out my cock and suck it like you love it. Moan like the pathetic little slut you are."

 _Don't think about it! Think about Theseus…yes, Theseus_. But, her brain was too far gone to recite the play any further. She couldn't remember the next line, despite being able to recite the entire play without a thought, normally.

Hermione's eyes welled with tears of anger as her mouth complied and her throat let out raspy moans. Draco's hand fisted into her hair once again, holding her still as he forcefully and viciously thrust himself into her mouth, causing her to gag. "If your teeth touch me, I'll punish Tinny. If you in any way resist my cock, Tinny pays the price."

Hermione felt fury building within herself unlike any she had ever felt. How dare he threaten an innocent like Tinny! She used her mouth and her tongue as best she could as he rammed in and out of her. Her jaw was beginning to hurt from the tension of keeping her teeth off him. Relief and dread struck her at once as his disgusting hot liquid spurted into her mouth, him grunting over her.

After a minute, he pulled back from her. "Take off that dress and climb on your bed. On all fours, like the hound you are."

She found her body complying even as she saw Tinny watching with terror out of the corner of her eye. "Leave, Tinny." Hermione whispered frantically at the elf.

"No, Tinny. You stay. You watch. This is what happens to this Mudblood whore if you ever speak to her again. This is just a taste of what will come."

Tears of fury slid down Hermione's flaming cheeks. Her body felt like it was on fire with rage. Her clothes off, she climbed onto the bed and assumed the commanded position. She could hear him sliding his belt through his belt loops.

He approached the bed and Hermione could feel his eyes on her. He stepped closer, reaching his hand out to rub her bottom.

It was practically psychotic the way he changed his tone, once again. Just like in his suite earlier, he spoke to her as though she were a companion whom he was discussing the weather, as though he had not just brutalized her and raped her mouth. "So, back to where we were earlier before the Dark Lord desired my company." Hermione scoffed internally. She doubted the Dark Lord desired _anyone's_ company.

Her focus was back on Draco as he continued, conversationally, "I really don't think I'll use my hand to warm you up. I don't see the point of that at all. It made my hand hurt this morning. This is your punishment, not mine." She could sense him step back from her and heard the jingle of his belt buckle as it shifted in his hand.

Hermione's breathing was rapid, as she braced and tensed for what was sure to be excruciating pain in any second. She heard a swishing sound and then a loud slap followed by a sting and a burn across both her butt cheeks. _Fuck, that hurt!_

Her breath came out in pants and her forehead crinkled as another crack of the belt came down on her lower back. She let out a yelp in pain. It felt like he had whipped her with fire.

"Oops, missed my target." He peaked around to her face. "Sorry," he said without a touch of sincerity in his voice. She heard him let out a breath. "Wow, this is fun." Suddenly her thighs were blazing as the belt came down at the junction just below were her buttocks met her legs. She couldn't help but sob uncontrollably as the belt began rapidly raining down on her tender flesh, strike after strike…on her bottom, her legs, her back. It hurt like nothing she had ever experienced, outside of the Cruciatus curse. She was trembling and sobbing. No longer able to hold herself up, she collapsed onto her stomach. Her heart started racing with the panic from disobeying his order and she felt her body fight to resume her demanded position.

"Tinny, get over here." He spoke to Tinny, once again as though she were a small child. "Look at the Mudblood. This is what will happen to her every time to you speak to her. Every time you are nice to her. Just to be sure you understand, bend over."

"Draco, no!" The words were out of Hermione's mouth before she even knew she had something to say. "Punish me, it's all my fault! Tinny has done nothing wrong!"

"Tsk, tsk. Oh, but she did, Mudblood whore. She has disgraced the Malfoy Estate by befriending _you_. She has shamed her ancestors who faithfully served this house for hundreds of years by calling you a _good witch_. By thinking of you as her _friend!_ You are not worthy of friendship, Mudblood. Not even by a lowly house elf."

She heard him move around, but couldn't see him. "Bend over, Tinny. Right here. You need to know what the Mudblood whore will experience."

Hermione screamed " _STOP_!" as she heard the crack of the belt on the tiny elf and the cry from Tinny's sweet mouth.

Rage possesed her, unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her body shot up, overcoming the bond, and turned toward Draco. Before he had a chance to comprehend, she rolled into a tall kneel on the bed and stared down at him. She focused on the wand in his pocket as he started to reach for it and wished with all her might it would come to her. "Expelliarmus!" she yelled. The wand flew into her grasp instantly and magic flooded through her body as it tingled in her hand. Her magic sparked from her, and Draco's eyes grew wide as he could practically see the magic swirling around her.

Tinny dashed behind the sofa as Hermione pointed the wand at Draco. He seemed to regain his senses and was opening his mouth. "Silencio!" she screamed. "Don't you fucking touch her again, you sadistic asshole!"

Draco turned to run, but Hermione was quick as she flicked the wand and whispered, " _Locomotor Mortis_." The leg binding spell caused him to fall forward with a loud crash. She jumped off the bed, watching him try to crawl away like the worm he was. Before she knew what she was saying, the forbidden curse started to spill from her lips. _"Cruci.."_ Somehow, despite her rage, despite her desire to flay the skin from his disgusting body, she stopped herself short of whispering the unforgivable. Her voice trembling with continued fury, she whispered in a barely controlled voice. "You are a vile, vicious, cruel and pathetic specimen of a human being. If being a pure blood gives someone the right to be what you've become, then I'm proud to be a _mudblood_."

She heard movement behind her and turned to see Tinny peek out from behind the sofa. Forgetting about Draco, she dashed back to the trembling elf. "Tinny, are you alright?" Tinny nodded with wide tear ridden eyes and didn't speak, reminding Hermione of Draco's awful command that she could never speak to Hermione again.

Hermione turned back to the sadistic bastard, and upon seeing him crawling rapidly towards the door, almost escaping, fury overcame her, once again. Before giving it a conscious thought, she waved the wand in her hand and yelled " _impedimenta!_ " The spell shot forward with incredible force, hitting Draco from behind, lifting him from the ground and throwing him into the table where the glowing parchment had been earlier. He crumbled to the floor not moving. Hermione's breathing was rapid and her pulse was racing as she cautiously stepped forward. All her fury left as the pool of blood began to form around the blond's head.

When the rage was gone, fear began to take its place. A feeling of dread overwhelmed her as her heart began to pound, the bond taking hold once again. The compulsion to climb on the bed and resume the commanded position on all fours was more than she could bear. Tinny slowly crept out from behind the sofa, her eyes looking from the unconscious blond on the floor back up to Hermione. The tears fell as she watched Hermione resume her earlier position.

After a moment, Hermione realized she had no choice. "Tinny. Tinny, get Lucius."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Same disclaimer as always. We own none of this and make no money from it.**

**Thanks to my fabulous and talented co-writer, LissaDream. We will also be posting chapter 10 of _Master Mine_ very soon, likely this weekend, and possibly today. :)**

**Thanks so much to all who comment! We love hearing your thoughts :)**

* * *

 

Lucius was entering his suite, having just returned from the stables. The newly acquired white, sixteen-hand, Arabian stallion was a gorgeous specimen and Lucius had enjoyed the midday ride – his first on the beast. The horse was willful and defiant, and did not want to be harnessed or controlled, but Lucius had the horse calmed and compliant within a few minutes on the trail. He was an experienced equestrian and was well versed with how to make these animals trust him.

Lucius and Narcissa had shared a love of riding. After her death, he hadn't been able to ride alone for quite some time, it had been too painful. He had regained his passion over the past couple of weeks, however. Riding was when he felt the freest. It was the only time he was away from the prying eyes of the portraits, away from the demands of his work, and (most importantly) away from the snake-faced man he called Master. The best part of the jaunt had been galloping through the pastures. The fresh air and tranquility of the estate, coupled with the sound of the horse's hooves beating the ground and expiratory snorts, had been therapeutic and calming to his conflicted state of mind.

He had just sat down to pull off his boots, when he heard the panicked voice of Narcissa coming from her portrait across the room. "Lucius, it's Draco! He's hurt! That Mudblood…she…"

Lucius barely had a chance to process her words before a completely undone Tinny was at his side. "Master Malfoy, sir! It's the young Master, sir – he is hurted, he is!"

Lucius was on his feet instantly. "Take me to him. NOW!" he commanded.

* * *

Hermione felt sheer panic as she continued to kneel on all fours in the same spot she had been commanded to. Her back was facing where Draco was laying, and therefore she couldn't see him. Had she killed the bastard? Despite her hatred, that was not her intention. She had just lost control for a minute! The wandless magic had been…incredible. She felt so unbelievably powerful – completely unstoppable. She had been filled with so much hate, more hate than she had ever felt in her life! Merlin, she had almost _crucio'd_ the sick fucker! Part of her wished she had, but that would have made her no better than Voldemort or any one of his slimy followers. What she had done was bad enough _. What's Lucius going to do? Merlin, don't let me have killed him. I'm a dead witch if I did!_

Her eyes fell to the ten-inch length of Hawthorne wood wand lying beside her hand. _Pick it up!_ But her body didn't listen. The bond was too strong, her anger too deflated, and her fear too overwhelming.

She heard the loud pop of apparition and then the terrified voice of Lucius Malfoy cut through her heart. No man should ever sound so fearful. She heard what must have been his knees hitting the floor. "Draco! My boy!" A second's pause. "Tinny, get Healer Jacobs!"

Another pop and Hermione knew the elf was gone. Hermione didn't move and didn't make a sound. Wishing she could disappear into the bed, she simply listened. Listened for any indication she hadn't killed him. "Draco, please Draco! Wake up," she heard Lucius plead. She could hear the mumbling of voices from the picture frames throughout the suite, but kept her head down.

Lucius' voice was strangled. "Miss Granger, what happened?"

Her response was choked with dread. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…!"

She heard rapid, thundering steps and then felt a strong grip on her arm, yanking her off the bed. She saw a blur as his other hand snatched the wand off the bed. His brutal and strong grip was the only thing that kept her upright. Her legs were weak and trembling with terror. She felt her back slam into the wall, and a sharp pain as her head hit the hard surface. A thick, muscular thigh wedge between her legs and she gasped with surprised pain as the movement caused her backside to burn with the friction it caused against the wall. Suddenly, she was very aware of the flames of discomfort to her backside from the whipping she had just received. Tears tumbled down her face as the enraged, maddened face of the man she had just this morning trusted to _not_ be dangerous was staring down at her. How wrong she had been. This man was terrifying. His voice was deep, growling, and menacing. His right hand was still gripping her left arm painfully, his left arm was pressed against her collarbone, only inches from her delicate neck. "What…did…you…do?!"

"I...I..." She couldn't get the words out, so deep was her terror.

His eyes were dark and piercing and she flinched with surprised agony when she felt him penetrate her mind. She had not known he was a Legilimens, but clearly, he was. She saw what he saw - her wand raised at Draco's retreating, bound form as he made his way toward the door. She watched as she lifted her wand to the defenseless wizard's back and blasted him off his feet, causing his head to slam into the corner of the stand beside the door. Lucius growled with rage as he forcefully shoved himself away from her, causing her to once again be forced into the wall. It made her cry out, a sob hitching in her throat.

She slid to the floor, her head pounding, her heart racing. She watched as the frantic wizard ran back to his son's side. A son who still wasn't moving. She wanted to explain, to defend herself. She had been provoked! Lucius hadn't gone far enough into her memory! She didn't dare speak, fearful that one wrong move would cause him to curse her. Words failed her, anyhow, as she stared at the sight before her: a pool of blood, a desperate father, cradling his bleeding and unconscious son. It didn't matter that he had been kind to her, that he had seemed to want to protect her. She knew now – that sliver of kindness and concern would be a thing of the past. Hermione hadn't realized until this moment how much she had come to depend on Lucius. She hadn't trusted him, was sure she would never have been able to trust him, but she had dared to hope. Seeing the grief and anger on this man's face made it clear to her that those hopes were now dashed. If Draco were permanently injured…or if he died…? She was terrified she had just signed her own death certificate.

"Where is that blasted Healer!" Lucius snapped, startling her.

"Uuuhhhh." A soft, moan came from the younger Malfoy and Hermione huffed in a huge breath of relief.

"Draco! Open your eyes!"

Hermione watched, now with trepidation. What would Draco do to her for this? What would Lucius do?

Before Draco had a chance to respond, Tinny appeared with Healer Jacobs. Lucius gently laid his son's head back on the floor and stood, stepping back allowing the Healer better access. Lucius was ignoring her completely, standing over the Healer as he whispered incantations and waved his wand over the barely conscious Malfoy.

Hearer Jacobs' words were reassuring. "He's going to be all right. He's sustained a concussion, slightly worse than Miss Granger's was. He'll come around shortly, but he'll need to rest. He needs to stay calm and let his body heal. I have potions I'll leave to help with the pain and the swelling."

Lucius tightened and released his fists at his sides as he stared down at his son. Hermione could see he was trembling. Healer Jacobs stood, waving his wand and magicking away the blood. He turned to Lucius. "Head wounds bleed easily. They often times look much worse than they are. He will truly be fine, Mr. Malfoy."

Sensing another presence in the room, Healer Jacobs looked behind them and across the suite. Hermione noticed his eyebrows shoot up in obvious surprise at her naked, cowering presence. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them to hide her nakedness. He cleared his throat and quickly looked away, evidently not wanting to know what was going on.

Lucius, suddenly remembering her presence, turned back to her. His expression was every bit as enraged as before, but his voice was more controlled. "Put some clothes on and come to Draco's suite."

Hermione watched as Lucius waved his wand, levitating Draco's semi-conscious form, and led him out of the room. Healer Jacobs followed. Tinny looked back at Hermione briefly before disappearing with a pop.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the same ripped dress back on, Hermione picked up the glowing piece of parchment and felt a dreaded pull to the room she hated above all others. Upon arriving, she tentatively turned to face Draco's bed. He was sitting up, his hand over the side of his head. "I'm fine! Just leave me alone!"

"Draco, you need to relax and rest. You heard Healer Jacobs before he left; you will slow your recovery if you resist these simple instructions."

Draco's scowl intensified when he noticed Hermione. His voice was quiet, rage in his eyes. "You're going to regret this, Granger. You have no idea how _deeply_ you're going to regret this."

Lucius had his hands on his son's shoulders, trying to convince him to lay down. Realizing Hermione's presence wasn't helping, he turned to her. She recoiled at the icy expression on his face, whimpering in fright.

"Bilby," Lucius called out.

The house elf instantly appeared and bowed. "Master Malfoy calls for Bilby?"

Lucius was staring at Hermione with cold, hard eyes. She could feel utter panic crawl up her body. He wasn't going to let her explain, he wasn't going to listen. He was going to hurt her – terribly – his expression promised it without words. She swallowed down the sobs threatening to take over. "Take Miss Granger to cell number two and leave her there." He paused and then continued. "Clearly, the Mudblood needs to be taught a lesson. Please be sure all the…accoutrements normally in that cell are present. "

Hermione felt dizzy, and knew the blood must be draining from her face. "Oh, god," she whispered. "Please! I'm sorry! Please!" She lost control of the sobs as her pleas fell on deaf ears. Draco had a malicious smile on his face as he laid back down. Lucius was whispering soothing words of comfort as the elf gripped her wrist and Disapparated her away.

* * *

It had been at least an hour since the male house elf had left her in the dungeon. Hermione hadn't realized how it would affect her – being back in a prison cell. Overwhelmingly suffocating was an understatement, and she had worked herself into a right state before she must have hyperventilated into a faint. Upon awakening, she had come face to face with a tray of terrifying instruments that were charmed under an impenetrable covering. She wasn't able to touch them – not that she would have wanted to. Her imagination ran away from her as she pondered what they were to be used for and she had wound up cowering in a corner of the dank cell, sobbing for what felt like an eternity. What she wouldn't give to wake up and find this had all been a nightmare. Opening her eyes as an eleven-year-old, safe at home with her mum and dad would be incredible. Having magic never exist was her idea of a perfect world after all the horrors she had been through.

Most of her anguish came from her own self-loathing for being so stupid. She shouldn't have hurt Draco, she should have just let him run out once she had gotten his wand. It had clearly terrified him that she had disarmed him. The truth was, she would have never even attempted it – would have never gotten angry enough – if he hadn't hurt Tinny. Hermione was ready and willing to endure whatever Draco dished out in order to survive. However, she was _not_ prepared to stand idly by while he tortured an innocent. It just wasn't in her nature.

She was still sniffling softly, tears streaming down her face when there was a loud crack of Apparation. She looked up fearfully to find the ever-imposing Lucius Malfoy caressing his fingers over the tray of torture implements. Absolute terror gripped her heart, and she couldn't have stopped the words if she had tried. "Mr. Malfoy, please - !" He didn't let her finish.

Almost lazily he flicked his wand at her. "Crucio," he hissed. Fire, knives, hot irons, boiling oil, breaking bones – it felt like all of it combined at once to encapsulate her body in utter agony. She screamed – writhing, twisting, and thrashing.

It was over in seconds that felt like hours and she lay face down on the cold, wet cobble stone floor, sobbing. She attempted to curl herself into a ball and cried out from the after-pain of the curse combined with the burning remnants of the lashes that had broken the skin on her back and buttocks and thighs.

"Did you think I was teasing you when I told you to behave yourself, Miss Granger?" Lucius' voice was cold, hard, and void of all emotion. Hermione didn't look at him. She could barely move – could barely breathe – let alone answer him. She continued to weep wordlessly, struggling to catch her breath. She needed to look at him, to make him look at her. To listen to her. She tried to push herself into a tall kneel, but cried out before collapsing back to the stone.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, don't." She was breathless from the pain, tears poured unceasingly down her face.

Lucius muttered the curse again, and red-hot chains burned into her bones, skin was peeled from muscle, teeth pulled out one by one – she screamed, and screamed, and screamed. It felt like a lifetime, two lifetimes, three. She would surely go mad before he lifted it. Her life was over now. All because she had tried to help an innocent little elf. Then it was done again, and she wept more forcefully than before. Gagging on her heaving breaths, Hermione hugged herself tightly, trying to stop the tremored aftershocks of the curse. She couldn't stifle the residual cries of torture that were being ripped unwillingly from her throat as she continued to cry.

"I asked you a question, Miss Granger. I highly recommend you answer me." His voice, so soft and kind this morning, now felt like ice slipping down her spine.

"Please…" Was all she could manage. She dragged in breath after breath, trying to calm her heaving chest so she could answer him properly. Anything to not feel that agony again. Anything. "Please…let…me. Ohhhh…!" Hermione groaned low, whimpering as a shock gripped her body. Lucius must have held the curse much longer that time, and she clenched her teeth in attempts to keep from crying out. She realized she had peed herself, it burned her thighs where her skin was flayed open from Draco's whipping. Tears and snot streamed down her face, and she couldn't even begin to contemplate raising a hand to wipe her face, though she wanted to desperately. Being weak in front of him was the last thing she wanted.

"Cru - !"

"NO! Please! _P-please_ , Lu-Lucius, _NO_!" she bawled, begging him. Her tone was hysterical, her voice cracking in numerous places. "I didn't – I didn't mean to hurt him! I didn't! I was just…just trying to p-protect T-Tinny. Please…no more!" She couldn't breathe again. It had taken everything she had to force those words out. She wheezed, gasping breaths in through her mouth as her nose was completely blocked from her tears. She coughed agonizingly as the breaths caught in her throat. It hurt…so much. Another tremor wracked her body and she moaned loudly from it. How long had he held that curse on her? She couldn't remember ever feeling like this in the aftermath of it. Even with Voldemort…Bellatrix. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die. It was all that she could wrap her mind around, the fierce desire to live. To be. To survive this mess.

Lucius had frozen the moment she had said his name. The desperation in her voice, the way it had broken over the syllables, had punched him square in the gut. _What are you doing?_ He felt as though he had been jolted out of a fog. Suddenly, she was not his son's assailant anymore – she was a broken, beaten, and terrified slip of a girl bawling on the floor of a cell in his dungeon; begging for him to understand, to have mercy. His anger fled as quickly as it had come. He stepped back, his body colliding with the wall opposite of the one she was lying next to. He felt sick. The knife in his hand felt heavy and he looked down at it, disgusted with what he had been planning to do. It clattered to the ground and the girl jumped in fright, eyes rolling wildly to find the unfamiliar sound. She never looked his way, however, and eventually her eyes closed again.

Lucius was quiet for a long, long time. He stared at Hermione as she gasped and hiccupped; as she moaned with the pain of the aftershocks from the curse _he_ had put on her. Occasionally she whispered his first name followed by more pleas of mercy, as if she hadn't realized he had stopped – that he was still. Guilt gripped him fiercely – and he hated it. Hated her for making him feel this way.

That girl had split his son's head open. She could have killed him; she could have taken away the only person he had left in this world. Even with this thought, he was unable to bring back the rage that had encompassed him since he had found Draco in a pool of blood on her bedroom floor.

After an age, he realized she was quiet. Her breath was still shaky, but much deeper and more even. The groan and whimpers of discomfort were much softer and there were longer periods of time between them.

"You have one chance to explain to me what happened, or we will continue, Miss Granger."

There was another lengthy pause, and he wondered if she had passed out.

When Hermione answered, her voice was so weak he flinched with surprise. "Please…" she said tearfully. "I…c-can't, talk. Please…l-look. I…w-won't resist." She rolled. It caused her obviously discomfort – a louder grunt of pain escaped her, along with a gasp and a sob that shook Lucius to the core. Shame crashed around him. Had she always been so tiny? She looked like a small, broken child laying there like that.

At first her eyes were closed. He moved towards her cautiously, he understood she wanted him to use Legilimency. Kneeling beside her, he feared her eyes opening. When they finally fluttered, he knew he had been right to be so afraid. Her luminescent, golden irises were darkened with undiluted agony and grief; they were wet with unshed tears of anguish. "Please," she whimpered softly, slowly reaching out and grasping his wrist with her shaking, ice cold fingers. "Please…understand."

It took a moment to shake off the feeling her desperate touch caused. Eventually, he whispered another spell for the second time that day, slipping into her mind much more gently than before. Subconsciously, he did not want to cause her anymore pain. Lucius watched what had transpired between her and Draco earlier in the morning, followed by the scene with Hermione and Tinny sharing a kind of camaraderie in her dressing room. Draco had come upon them, he had hurt her, degraded her verbally and physically, and then saw him turn his attention to the little female elf. Lucius watched in utter fascination as Hermione (in all her naked splendor) had broken the slave bond by sheer force of will, wandlessly disarmed Draco, and proceeded to defended herself and the elf.

He observed in utter captivation as she had forced herself to not utter the curse Lucius had just used so ruthlessly on her. He pulled back from her mind as gently as he could and stared into her eyes for a long moment. She did not blink, he could not look away.

She had not _attacked_ , she had defended.

She had defended not herself, but Tinny.

Lucius sat heavily on the floor of the cell to which he had sent an innocent eighteen-year-old girl with every intention of torturing her for defending his house elf from his son. After her eyes fluttered shut, he dropped his head into his hands, confusion flooding every pore of his being. Why should he care about this Mudblood chit? Why should he care that she was defending herself or Tinny? Why did her motivation even matter? She had attacked his _son_!

 _But it does._ It mattered because what his son had done to Hermione, unprovoked no less, had sickened Lucius. Tentatively, without conscious thought, he reached out and brushed his fingers over her right cheekbone. Her eyes opened halfway, he was astonished when a small smile pulled at her lips. "You understand?" she whispered hoarsely. She didn't wait for his reply. "I'm so sorry," she reached up and cupped his hand with hers, pressing his fingers against her face. He had to stifle a gasp of surprise at her easy acceptance of him after what he had just done to her. Then she lost consciousness, her hand falling limply away from his.

Swearing softly, he gathered her small form into his arms and stood to Disaparate. He landed in her bathroom and gently laid her on the floor before flicking his wand to fill the tub. She smelled of salt and urine and had to be in absolute agony. He knew his fury had been such that he had held the Cruciatus curse too long the second time. He was probably lucky he hadn't caused her permanent brain damage.

He started removing his clothing, undressing until he just wore his underwear. Then he turned to Hermione and used his wand to unclothe her. He cursed loudly when he saw the welted and broken stripes across her backside. There was dried blood smeared in a few places. She moaned a little in her oblivion when he gently reached to smooth one particularly angry line that started on her hip. He took a moment to set his wand close to the tub, so it was within reach if he needed it. Then, he pulled her into his arms and slid into the tub with her. She lay limp and boneless in his arms and he couldn't help but marvel at her. Her eyelashes were damp with tears, her lips were bloodless and slightly parted, she was extremely pale – but she was still incredibly beautiful.

As the heat closed around her body, her eyes slowly opened. She let out a sound that was half moan of pain and half groan of pleasure. Shock and confusion coursed through him when she turned into him, slinging her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his chest. Tears seemed to be wracking her body again and he could do nothing but wrap his arms around her naked form as she clung to him. To _him_. This incredible creature was seeking comfort from him for pain _he_ had caused, comfort from pain he'd been unable to stop his son from inflicting.

After a long while, he felt her pull away and reluctantly let her go. Mystified as to why he wouldn't want to let the Mudblood out of an embrace, he grabbed his wand to summon the supplies he needed to wash her and set about his tasks with as much clinical detachment he could. Lucius avoided all contact with her expressive, devastating eyes. He turned her, so she sat between his legs, and poured water over her head, drenching her locks which pulled long and straight with the weight of the water. Setting the metal pitcher aside, he reached for some shampoo and squirted it into his hands before gently massaging it into her scalp. A sharp gasp of pain caused him to pause in surprise before he realized her head must be tender from Draco pulling her hair. With much chagrin, he remembered slamming her head into the wall while questioning her, as well. He casually forced those thoughts away before swiping up the pitcher again and rinsing her hair. After repeating his actions with the conditioner, he soaped a flannel. Lucius pushed her heavy hair over one shoulder and smoothed the soft fabric over her shoulders and down her spine, stopping above the line that marked the top of her damaged backside. Hermione remained quiet as he rinsed her again before pulling her back against his chest. Moving her hair again, he continued his ministrations over her collar bones, gently around her breasts, down her stomach, and between her thighs. He meant no sexual undertone to his actions, but unfortunately his body did not get the message.

Lucius felt her stiffen when he shifted as his straining erection pressed against her lower back. Choosing to ignore her response and pretending it wasn't actually happening, he quietly ordered her out of the tub. Hermione clambered out of the basin painfully, small grunts and gasps leaving her with every movement. He followed, frowning deeply at her discomfort. Snatching his wand up from his pile of clothing, he cast a drying spell on himself and his boxers before wrapping the girl in a huge, fluffy, lavender towel.

It bothered Lucius that she hadn't spoken, this was made worse by the fact she hadn't even attempted to look anywhere but the floor. He watched her carefully as he redressed.

"Miss Granger, look at me," he said finally as he finished tucking in his shirt. Hermione's head rose slowly, not having a choice. He was immediately disconcerted, and had to look away from her hastily. Her eyes were flat – dead – her face held no expression outside of a profound resignation. Almost as if she had accepted whatever horrible fate had been laid out for her – whatever hand he was about to deal her.

"Come." He said nothing else, just led her back to the bedroom. It was obvious from the way her breathing changed that she was suffering. Lucius felt an alarming need to remedy that. "Bilby!" The elf appeared with a crack and bow.

"Pain potion, healing potion, healing cream, sleeping potion, bruise paste, tremor potion, now." Lucius rattled off the list of what he needed. "Lay on the bed on your stomach, Miss Granger."

Her body automatically started to move, but her speech was not being commanded. "I need to dry my hair," she whispered, her voice was devoid of all emotion. It was the first words she had uttered since she had asked him to look into her mind, to understand what had truly happened.

Why did that bother him so? She had _finally_ been put in her place after days of acting like she was the new lady of the manor. She finally understood that she was not worth the dirt on his boots. _Lies!_ his brain hissed at him. _Why lie to yourself, Lucius?_ He shook his head hard, trying to dispel the troubling thoughts. "You may stop, I will dry your hair," he finally answered her. He watched, feeling slightly sick as her body came to an abrupt halt.

He used a spell he remembered Narcissa employing and Hermione's hair immediately dried straight and long, surprising them both. Clutching the towel with one hand, she fingered a lock of the hair that almost reached her hips now that it was no longer in tight, spiral curls.

Hermione refused to meet his gaze, the spell had been shocking, but she couldn't deny its effectiveness. Her hair was silky smooth and shiny. It felt incredible! If she ever got a wand back, she would have to ask him what he had done. It would have been almost laughable if she were anywhere else in the world. Lucius commanded her back to the bed, towel off, stomach down. She felt her body comply without her direction. There was a pop and Hermione assumed Bilby had returned with the ordered potions. Another pop indicated he was gone. The bed sunk as Lucius sat next to her.

The Malfoy patriarch fumbled through the vials that had been given to him, sighing. He set them aside for the moment. He needed to disinfect and heal the slashes on her back and bottom. He looked at them carefully, nausea rising in him once again. There were eleven total, three were broken open painfully, the others were raised welts. Quietly, he murmured the incantation to clean and then seal the open wounds, followed by one to reduce swelling and inflammation. He opened the tub of healing cream and gently massaged it into the marks. The only response he got from her was a sharply inhaled breath. He let the cream set, watching as the marks faded to look days old before his eyes. He then smoothed some bruise paste over the tender skin, which would take the night to make a difference.

The pain had obviously lessened considerably; he watched as her whole body melted. "Sit up and face me Miss Granger." He spoke to her while using his wand to silently summon a nightgown. The moment she was facing him, Lucius was slipping it over Hermione's head and helping her guide her arms through the sleeves of the teal and cream damask silk.

"Take these." In succession, Lucius handed her the healing potion, the pain potion, and the tremor potion. He watched with approving eyes as she downed each in quick turn. He vanished the tubes once she had finished. They watched each other quietly for a while. Not knowing why he did it, Lucius reached out to caress the left side of her face. It didn't surprise him when she flinched, but the hiss of pain confused him.

"What's wrong?"

She simply shook her head, teeth coming out to worry her lower lip. "Tell me, now."

Hermione was surprised when she immediately began to speak, especially being that Draco had strictly forbidden her from telling anyone. "My face hurts. I was struck this morning. I'm sure it's bruised, but Draco put a glamour on it."

She watched in fascination as Lucius' jaw clenched tightly. A silent, _Finite Incantatem_ spell with his wand later and he let out a low, angry hiss as a large bruise bloomed across her cheek and around her eye in the shape of a hand print. He scooped up the bruise paste again and with wonderfully gentle fingers, he smoothed it into the mark on her face. "I'm sorry," he sighed. He froze, astounded with himself. Had he just apologized to a _Mudblood_? For something he had not even done? She didn't answer, didn't look at him. Part of him was glad, he didn't want to see her lifeless eyes, anyhow. Her apparent defeat was too painful for him to bear, Merlin only knew why.

When he was done, Lucius sent the creams to sit on Hermione's nightstand. Keeping his voice as cool as he could, he gave her directions he knew she would hate, but that were necessary.

"You will never use wandless magic against my son or myself ever again, tell me you understand." It was a demand.

"I understand." Her voice was soft, but flat. She didn't even attempt to meet his eyes.

"If Draco strikes your face, you are to tell me the next time you see me no matter what his directives are. I have asked him not to mark your face. It is not acceptable."

He watched with slight satisfaction as some color filled her cheeks and she bit her lip. Was that anger she was trying to dispel? That was a good sign – life returning to her.

"Physically, you have been punished enough for your transgressions today," he continued after a beat. He kept his voice casual, even though guilt was still eating him alive. "However, I have decided I will maintain the directive that Tinny not be allowed to speak with you." Hermione's head snapped up and it was all Lucius could do not to look away at the obvious desolation in her eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing to her; he was taking away the one thing – the only thing – that was good in her life. Lucius was no fool, he had known Tinny would be kind to the witch. After what had transpired today, though, he realized he couldn't let them build a relationship. It would be too dangerous.

"She will continue to provide for your needs and care for you, but she will not be allowed to converse with you. Your time together will be strictly professional, for lack of a better word. Tell me you understand." Her voice was rough with unshed tears when she spoke the words this time. He looked away shamefully.

He moved off the bed and started to walk to the door. "Dinner will be served in your room, there is a sleeping potion for afterwards if you need it. If you want another pain potion, you only need to ask Tinny for it." His words were met with more silence and he watched her with sad eyes as she rolled onto her side, facing away from him. Lucius sighed as he noticed her body start trembling, she was crying again. Again, he tried to reason why this bothered him.

Steeling himself for his final words, he placed his hand on the crystal doorknob. "If you ever do anything to hurt my son again, Miss Granger, I will not stop to listen to your reasoning. This is your final warning on this matter, I expect you to heed it." He heard her sob aloud as he pulled the door shut behind him, guilt once again taking hold. Once again, he didn't understand why.

* * *

Lucius stepped into his suite, exhausted from all that had happened. He was only partially surprised to find Narcissa was watching him warily from the portrait over the mantle.

"I've been watching Draco, he's been sleeping," she said, her voice tense with worry.

"Hmm," he responded softly and distractedly. Draco wasn't the injured party he was thinking about. His mind kept replaying the image of her small, writhing body, sobbing and begging for mercy on the cobblestone floor. He felt sick to his stomach. _Why do I feel this way?_

"Lucius, talk to me."

Lucius exhaled as he slumped into a chair, reaching to unzip his boots and slide them off. He stood, not answering her, as he slipped off his leather riding vest and began to unbutton his shirt. "What do you wish me to say, 'Cissa?"

He looked over his shoulder towards her when she didn't respond. Guilt overcame him when he saw the hurt in her eyes. His dismissive tone and words were reflective of how he had treated her far too often during their marriage. He walked towards her portrait. "I'm sorry, my flower. It's been a…rough afternoon."

Narcissa's beautifully painted eyes became sympathetic.

He collapsed into a chair again, his shirt falling open as he propped his right ankle on his left knee. He rubbed his eyes and then smoothed his hand down his face. "I think, my darling, I am missing you so much, that I am becoming confused by the female in this house." He rolled his eyes. "When have I ever cared about a Mudblood? When have I ever concerned myself with such a piece of filth?"

Narcissa watched him, her brow lifting slightly with the surprise of his confession. She glanced around the room, confirming they were not being eavesdropped on. "Careful, my love. Such words will bring you into my existence long before your time."

Catching her meaning, he glanced about the room. _You're being reckless, you idiot._

After a minute, she pressed him. "Tell me. Tell me what you're thinking."

Lucius swallowed and hesitated to speak. "I... For some reason, unknown to me, I find myself concerned for the girl's wellbeing. I actually apologized to her, 'Cissa! Apologized for what Draco had done to her. Imagine me…apologizing to a Mudblood! It's absurd!" He snorted his derision, not noticing the surprised look on Narcissa's painted face.

He stood jerkily, and began to pace. "She's a slave. Placed here, where we have to fuck her practically daily to maintain a bond." He looked up at his wife's portrait, apologetically. She waved her hand as though it was no concern. He huffed and looked away as he continued his pacing. "A bond I care nothing for, a bond the Dark Lord wishes us to use to manipulate her into…I'm not even sure _what_. He wants to be able to use her – should he find her useful. He wants Draco and I to sway her to our side." He rolled his eyes, facing the portrait. "How do you sway someone like Hermione Granger? Tell me! She will never support a cause that she spent more than half her life fighting. She will never support the dictator she hates more than anyone. And why should she? Narcissa, tell me! Why should she? He stands against everything she is! She's stubborn enough to go to her death before being swayed." Narcissa raised an eyebrow at his almost admiring tone.

He collapsed back into the chair for the third time. His voice was now soft, resigned. "Yet, I find myself feeling sorry for her. Perhaps I'm just tired of the violence. I'm tired of abusing and I'm tired of being abused. I'm tired of being forced to fuck an eighteen-year-old girl. A girl our son's age!" He looked up at Narcissa. "Sometimes when I look at her, I think of the daughter we lost. The daughter we miscarried. She would have been close to Hermione's age." He closed his eyes and looked up at Cissa. "What makes it worse, is that I find her desirable. It sickens me. It's obscene! Me, Lucius Malfoy, finding an eighteen-year-old Mudblood _desirable_." He shook his head in clear aggravation. "I think it's because I'm missing you so much. She's here…and you're not."

Narcissa watched him carefully for a moment before speaking with conviction. "Lucius, you're a better man than you give yourself credit for, but you're also a red-blooded male _. Of course, you desire her!_ As much as I hate to admit it, she's a striking girl. She has a lovely body and a sharp mind. I understand the beating yourself up over it. She's _not_ your daughter. You have to…be intimate with her anyway, you may as well make the best of it. It's not as though you're falling in love with her!"

Lucius looked up at her in horrified shock. "Certainly not!"

They didn't speak for a minute, each contemplating what had been said. Lucius was about to continue undressing when Narcissa's voice sounded pained. "But, Lucius. The one you _do_ love – your son! What of him? If the Mudblood had killed him, or seriously injured him..."

Lucius didn't let her finish; his voice was cold with its conviction. "She'd be dead right now."

"Elizabella told me what Draco did to her, Lucius. She saw the whole sordid thing."

Lucius' eyes glazed over, and he had to turn his face away from her. "It was awful, Narcissa. I saw it from the girl's mind - the unprovoked brutality. The glee he seemed to derive from her emotional and physical torture. The abuse of Tinny." He looked up at her, his tone conveying his doubt. "Do you still think it's grief?" He shook his head. "I could practically see the mad look of Bellatrix as I saw our son through Hermio...err, the Mudblood's eyes."

Narcissa's look became angry, her tone impatient. "Lucius, I know our son. I know Draco better than _anyone_! You are wrong! He is too young. When the madness overcame Bellatrix and all the other Blacks before her who were afflicted, it always came at an older age. Well into their twenties or thirties. He's too young. That's not what this is!" Lucius turned away, disbelieving. "Lucius, be a father. Talk to him. Try to get him to open up. You have to be a mother to him now as well, not just a father."

Lucius huffed, swallowing the retort he wanted to say, opting to say what Narcissa wanted to hear instead. "Yes, my flower. I'm sure you're right. I'll try to do better." He finished undressing, standing naked. "I'm going to shower now. Then I'm going to eat, then I'm going to bed." He paused. "Will you be here when I come out of the bath?"

She sighed apologetically. "Draco needs me. I'm going to watch over him so that if he wakes, I'm there."

Lucius' eyes stung as she disappeared from the frame, his heart breaking for her. Draco would not speak to her, he wouldn't even look at her. He hadn't acknowledged her presence even once since she had manifested. It was breaking Narcissa's dead heart and in turn, it made Lucius ache for her.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer - LissaDream and I own none of this and make no money from this twisted tale.**

**Thanks as always to my amazing co-writer, LissaDream. We've been working diligently on this story and have the next chapter started as well. Hoping to have it posted next week. If you haven't already, please check out our other story, _Master Mine_.**

**WARNING: Intense emotional situation - possible triggers. Same warnings as prior chapters.**

**Thanks for commenting :)**

* * *

When Hermione awoke to the pull of the six am summons, a familiar wash of dread slivered over her like retreating wave water caresses the sand. Her room was dark, and she could hear the smack of raindrops on her balcony. Glancing at her clock, her eyes confirmed what she knew. _Five-fifty_.

She cautiously rolled out of bed, expecting the residual effects of the Cruciatus to slow her down. She was disappointed to find her expectations were spot on. Her body ached, and her legs quivered. Disappointment was becoming her only constant and dependable companion. It was the one thing she had learned she could count on in this new life.

She slowly made her way to the loo and, after relieving her bladder, stopped to ponder her reflection. After studying her face, she lifted her teal, silk night gown and studied the fading marks from Draco's belt. The skin looked yellow, and remarkably it was only mildly tender to the touch. Lucius' healing treatments had helped. _But for how long? How long until the next beating?_

Dismissing that inevitability, she dropped her gown and brushed her teeth, not really caring that her facial bruises were almost completely faded as well. Lucius was confusing, and yet he was also very predictable. He confused her by taking such an interest in her physical condition. He was painstakingly careful with her when he healed her, as though she were a butterfly and he was mending her paper-thin wings. He was also predictable. Predictable in his carnal use of her, predictable in his rage at her, and predictable in the defense of his son.

_He can be reasoned with, though. He has a rational mind._ Hermione scoffed and dismissed her inner hope. _Not where his son is concerned._ She remembered his words as he left her the night before. _"If you ever do anything to hurt my son again, Miss Granger, I will not stop to listen to your reasoning. This is your final warning on this matter, I expect you to heed it."_

Not bothering to comb her hair, she stepped back into her room and wearily made her way to the door connecting her suite to the Master's. As she entered into the large living space, memory led her to the four-poster bed, light evading her straining eyes.

She struggled onto the bed and made her way to her usual place, hoping he would simply let her sleep. Within a moment of placing her head on the pillow, though, she felt his hands on her. "Do not come to me wearing a nightgown again."

Hermione was taken aback by his tone. He seemed angry and impatient. "Take it off and get on your hands and knees." _Shit!_ Nothing good ever came of this command. She had been buggered and half beaten to death in this position. _Nothing good comes in any position._ She reminded herself. She knew that wasn't the complete truth, though. She had experienced pleasure at the touch of this wizard. Pleasure she didn't want, but pleasure nonetheless. Somehow, she knew pleasure wasn't in the cards today.

Once in position, she felt him kneel behind her. She braced herself for the impending assault. His hand grasped her hips, lifting and slightly repositioning her. She felt fingers rub up and down the part of her body that was no longer her own. That part of herself that was hidden and had been saved for a man and a life she now knew she would never have. She wished she had slept with Ron. She had loved Ron and, more importantly, Ron had loved her. Even Viktor would have been ok. She wished she hadn't saved herself. It would have been nice to have been touched this way by someone who loved her, or even cared about her, even if it had only been once.

She heard the elder Malfoy let out a small sigh of what sounded like frustration. She saw him slip his hand under his pillow and pull out his wand. Then she felt a cool tingle between her legs as he whispered a spell she couldn't quite decipher. A quick thrust and he was inside her. It wasn't rough, and it wasn't painful, he was just there. As he began to move, her body was jolted forward with each thrust. His grip was tight on her hips, just shy of painful. Lucius' voice sounded slightly strained with his exertion. "Put your forehead on the pillow." Before she could analyze why, her head obeyed, and she understood. She could feel his thrusts were deeper.

Small grunts and pants accompanied the sound of flesh slapping flesh. He wasn't hurting her, but he was using her. She found she preferred the honesty of this position. This is what she was – exactly what Draco had told her – a vessel to be used for carnal pleasure. It was a relief there was no humiliating pleasure forced upon her leaving her no need to pretend this was something she wanted. She felt small as he leaned over her, his hips still pounding as his hands rested on the mattress beside her own. His right hand maneuvered under her, massaging her right breast. She felt him still as he let out a loud growl-moan with his release.

He remained hunched over her, until she felt his now soft cock slip from her, his seed spilling out with him. When his breathing began to calm, he righted himself before collapsing back in his usual spot. His eyes were closed, and his arm draped over his forehead.

"Leave. Brunch is at eleven-thirty," he whispered, still slightly out of breath.

She was frozen for just a moment before the bond kicked in, trying to come to terms that this was the same man who had thrown her over the ledge of pleasure twice yesterday morning. Then he had proceeded to give her the most pleasant morning she had had since she couldn't remember when. One stupid, emotional reaction in defense of her friend and she had lost that friend, as well as Lucius' kindness. Truly and completely, she now had nothing. A crushing feeling of loneliness enveloped her, and she had to stifle her tears as the bond forced her to move.

She grasped her nightgown and slid off the bed onto her shaky legs. Moving towards the hidden exit as quickly as her battered body would allow, she muttered the password. His command would not let her move at a slower pace. As soon as she was back in the confines of her own suite, she felt the sweet release of the bond. She exhaled a breath of solace and then drew in a breath of dread; she knew the pull to Draco would come at any second.

* * *

Voldemort was standing, his arms open in a gesture of welcome. His grey, thin lips pulled back to display yellowing teeth. His words were as blatantly false as his open arms. "Ahh, Draco. I always have time for my most promising and faithful."

Draco quickly kneeled before his serpent-faced Master with his head bowed. As the thin, spidery hand was held out, the young Malfoy instinctively leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on the icy skin.

Draco's storm-grey eyes looked up to meet the red tinged, vertically slit irises of the thing before him. The thing he was bound to serve for the rest of his life. "My Lord, my gracious and ever tolerant Master, I am sorry to intrude upon your Sunday morning."

The despot looked away and responded in a bored tone. "It is no matter. All days are the same tedium as the day before and the day after. It is the sacrifice I make for my subjects and for wizarding kind. Tell me what it is you require."

"The Mudblood. She is…yesterday, she…" Suddenly, Draco lost his voice, realizing the true extent of his humiliation at having been bested by _her_ …a waif of a Mudblood…A bound slave had overpowered him so decidedly. He realized now that it had been foolish and impulsive to beg the Dark Lord's audience. His voice was shaky as he tried to backtrack. "My Lord, I realize now I have made an error in wasting your precious time. I will handle it, I will – "

Voldemort's tone was sharp as he hissed his impatient words. "My time has already been wasted. Look at me, Draco. Show me what it is you struggle to say. Do not try to Occlude me."

Draco swallowed gravely, as he looked into the non-human eyes of Voldemort. He saw what his Master saw; Draco's verbal and physical abuse followed by Hermione's wandless show of magic. Draco grunted with discomfort when the Dark Lord pulled back and dove in again, going deeper and looking at every minute detail of the Mudblood's display. This time, the Dark Lord carried the memory through to the end, all the way to Draco regaining consciousness.

Draco drew in a cool, calming, and shaky breath when the greatest Legilimens the world had ever known finally pulled out of his head. The assault to his memory happened no less than five times before the Dark Lord had had his fill. Draco's head was throbbing, and his ears were ringing. He remembered the healer cautioning him against further injury and the need to rest. He wondered if this would qualify as further injury.

His thoughts were interrupted by the surprisingly gleeful voice of his master. Draco glanced up at the Dark Lord, finding his snake-like face looked as joyful as his voice sounded. He slowly clapped his hands and smiled gruesomely. " _That_ , Draco, was stunning. Thank you for sharing. I much prefer a display of _exquisite_ magic to the tiresome memories of the sexual abuse you afflict upon the Mudblood so regularly."

He stood and moved away from Draco smoothly, almost slithering toward the large picture window that looked over a forest of greens and browns. He spoke as he gazed out at the view. "Abraxas came to me last night and told me of the spectacle."

This did not surprise Draco, although it did disappoint him. He could not understand how his Grandfather could continue to serve Voldemort and be such a traitor to family secrets. His attention was pulled back to Voldemort when the man continued to speak. "Of course, Abraxas' description did not convey the true _beauty_ of the display." He let out a sigh and no small hint of disappointment as he continued. "Pity it was the Mudblood's magic that was so impressive, and not your own."

The humiliation of his Master's words furthered Draco's resolve to ask for what he needed so desperately. Swallowing his pride, he spoke. "My Lord, I let my guard down. If I had only – "

"Silence."

Draco didn't dare to speak another word. He kept his eyes down as his Master turned to face him.

"I saw what happened. You goaded the girl. You pushed her to the delicious moment where she lost control. You were the catalyst for something rare, and for that you are to be commended. I would advise you to be careful not to let her best you again." He let out a mirthless chuckle. "Something tells me she might not be so merciful next time."

Humiliated, Draco could feel the hatred for the Mudblood simmering beneath his skin so intensely, it was practically a miracle boils weren't forming. He dug his nails into his thighs, forcing himself to remain calm. Despite desperately trying to prove his worth for many weeks, his Master now found him lacking once again. He needed to show his strength and prove his value.

"My Lord, please, let me…let me kill her. She is – "

The Dark Lord rounded on him, his voice incredulous. "Kill her?! Kill her, you ask? Why would I ever want to kill such a creature? Such strength and ability! Such fortitude!" He turned away, seemingly talking to himself. "Imagine, a Mudblood displaying such a thing." He turned back to Draco. "No, Draco. She will not be killed. At least not as long as her…talents can be utilized."

Draco felt his Master's eyes on him as he continued to stare at the unwavering ground beneath his knees. He felt as though the earth might crumble below him and swallow him whole, or perhaps that was simply just a wish.

"But still, the Mudblood should be taught a lesson. I suppose it's only fair for you to be the one to teach it."

Draco looked up at his Master, a small bloom of hope opening in his chest.

* * *

Hermione entered the dining room on shaking legs. Draco had not been in his rooms this morning. Because of this, she had knelt next to his bed until the bond had released her just in time to ready herself for her next compulsion – brunch. Her whole body shook with fatigue. Apparently almost five hours of kneeling was its own form of torture. It had most likely been the lesser of two evils, though. Draco's presence would have been much worse.

Lucius did not make eye contact or speak to her as she entered the room, he also did not stand to pull out her chair as he had done for every other meal they had attended together since she had arrived. She paused for a moment, the panic of the bond clawing at her. She wasn't supposed to sit unless the proper etiquette had been attended to.

After a few agonizing minutes, and only when her breath changed to reveal her discomfort, did Lucius glance at her indifferently. "What are you waiting for? Sit down!"

It was a relief when the bond released her to pull out her own chair and sit. She was starving, having been up since before six. She settled into her spot and slowly pulled her napkin into her lap. She was in a simple pewter colored gown with cap sleeves. It was fitted to under her bust and then draped in a flowing cascade to her ankles. She was cold, the material gave very little warmth against the chill of the large manor house.

The conversation remained nonexistent, even after they were served. Hermione found herself staring at her fingers, which were twisting and untwisting in her napkin. Lucius' complete obliviousness of her presence took her appetite away. She managed to choke down a few bites of the cherry cream cheese stuffed French toast, but it tasted like sand in her mouth. She sipped her tea, wishing he would at least offer her part of the paper like he had the morning before. Granted, he had only allowed her the social pages, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

Lucius watched her covertly from behind his copy of the morning Prophet. Her gait seemed unsteady and it was with a twinge of guilt that he realized Draco had likely been gone all morning. Had he not been in his room when she arrived? How long had she been left kneeling? He knew he had given her a directive that if she was forgotten about for longer than two hours she should be released, but he was certain that Draco had not forgotten her. His sadistic son simply just didn't care about the girl's pain.

He barely dared to breathe when she came to a stop at her chair. He was determined not to talk to her unless absolutely necessary. He felt he needed to distance himself from her. To curb his confused emotions and odd waves of protection, he needed to think of her as a Mudblood slave. Not as the lovely, intelligent, and fiery young woman that she was. He was not doing himself any favors by making this situation more complicated than it needed to be. She was beneath him. She was a Mudblood not worthy of his concern.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the change in her breathing. He recognized that sound. Despite his thoughts from only seconds before, guilt flooded him as he remembered his prior directive. She had been commanded to wait to be seated and allow polite dining etiquette without complaint. He closed his eyes very briefly before snapping at her because of his own frustration. "What are you waiting for? Sit down!"

Lucius refused to look at her, she was probably wearing something lovely. Tinny always dressed her well. Often, when she was embarrassed, flustered, or upset, her cheeks took on a beautiful blush that… _Stop it, you fool! Pull yourself together!_ He was surprised to see that breakfast had been served without his notice. He glanced at Hermione quickly from under his lashes to see she had barely touched anything. Her fingers were playing with her napkin. He jumped guiltily when the doors to the dining room burst open.

* * *

The French doors banged open with a resounding crash, making Hermione yelp and Lucius flinch. "On your feet, Mudblood!"

Draco's voice was laced with venom and Hermione's face drained of color. She missed the irritation that flashed upon the elder Malfoy's face before she turned her pleading eyes towards him. He gazed at her for a brief moment, but quickly turned away from her, uninterested in her plight. She had known he would not help her. _Foolish for you to hope, Hermione. He told you yesterday where his loyalties lie._

The bond forced her to stand, her napkin sliding from her lap to pool at her feet. "Come to the end of the table and bend over," Draco continued, his voice still hard and deadly as he gestured towards the table before him, unfastening the front of his robes. Her body complied like there was a puppeteer manning her strings. A terrified little whimper left her chest and she balled her fists into the skirt of her gown, trying to stop their shaking.

"Take it easy, Draco," Lucius' voice surprised her, impassive as it was. "I don't want anything falling over or breaking." A sob caught in her chest at his cold tone. Heaven forbid her latest debasement or beating break some of the precious family crystal.

Hermione shot him a scandalized look as she leaned over the opposite end of the long table, biting her lip until it bled when Draco pulled up her skirt. She wasn't wearing any knickers – Draco had forbidden her to a couple of days back. No nightgowns with Lucius, no underwear with Draco. She wouldn't be surprised if she was forced to live naked by this time next week. She would not cry. She would _not_.

Draco spat in his hand and she felt him rub it into her quim, moistening her entrance which was bone dry. Another spit and she heard the sick, slick noise of wet skin on skin and assumed he was wetting his disgusting knob. Without warning, he slammed into her. She was nowhere near ready for such an intrusion, and the force of it combined with her unpreparedness made her cry out in pain. Tears stung her eyes.

"Merlin's sake, Mudblood." Draco rolled his eyes, his voice staying cruel and detached. "Only thing you're good for and you can't even get that right." After a few thrusts, she felt his hands in her hair, smoothing it back into a gathered ponytail. Somewhere in her haze of embarrassment and anger at being taken thus (in front of Lucius at the bloody brunch table, no less), she was surprised with how gentle he was being with her curly locks. It was short lived, however, because once it was all gathered, he twisted his fist and jerked her back. This pulled her head, neck, and upper torso off the table and forced her to look at the senior Malfoy as Draco rode her from behind. Her palms pressed flat against the table to push herself up, trying to take some of the weight from her screaming scalp. The tears fell then, and she stifled a groan of pain.

* * *

Lucius hadn't meant to let Hermione catch him looking at her and his face froze in a forced mask of indifference when her beautiful eyes silently plead with him to help her. He couldn't help her. If he intervened, Draco would be furious. He knew Abraxas was lurking in the shadowy scenic portrait off the sideboard – his father's portrait would definitely talk. He turned away from her, his stomach clenching with self-loathing. He had to stifle a gag when he heard Draco's direction. Not only was he going to humiliate her, he had decided to make a show out of it.

Carefully, he schooled his features. Picking up a tea cup, he made his voice cool and gave a warning to be gentle disguised as concern for the crystal on the table. He didn't miss the sob she choked on and his whole body went cold. _That was fucking cruel_ , _Malfoy_ , he chided himself. He refused to look at the young couple at the end of the table. "Couple" was such an imperfect word to describe them. His son was raping the girl at the bloody dinner table in full view of his father. Who did something like that? When had Draco turned into this unrecognizable man?

His heart leapt when she cried out in obvious discomfort and his eyes flew to her as Draco castigated her for something. Lucius didn't register the words, just the tone. Her face was pressed into the table and Draco's hands were gathering her hair. Without warning, she was forced up to look right at him, her hands slamming down on the table to help support her neck. Her face was twisted in pain and flushed with humiliation. The silent splash of tears that cascaded down her cheeks almost made Lucius jump to his feet and put an end to the barbaric demonstration. He quickly turned his attention back to the paper, but he wasn't absorbing anything he tried to read. His heart was pounding in his ears.

_It's not so different from what you did to the girl this morning – taking her from behind against her will._

A contradicting voice chimed in. _Yes, but that was in a bed. In the privacy of your rooms. You didn't hurt her or verbally abuse her. You merely fucked her…as you are required to do._

Once again, his mind shot out a counterpoint. Y _es. as Draco is required to do, as well._

* * *

"I see you healed her punishment from yesterday, Father. How…sweet." Draco's voice was sarcastic and a bit raspy from his exertions. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, internally willing him to be done quickly.

Lucius' voice betrayed nothing. "You broke her skin, I didn't want her bleeding on anything." Hermione's eyes flew open in horror. He had healed her because he didn't want her dirty blood on anything? How…typical. She should have never expected anything more, so why did it hurt her feelings? She tilted her head slightly as she tried to detach herself from what was happening. In doing so, she caught the headline of the Daily Prophet - _Last Member of Order, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sentenced to Dementor's Kiss!_

"I thought you were going to torture her for what she did to me?" Draco's breath was becoming more labored while they talked about her as if she weren't in the room.

"She was punished, then healed," Lucius sighed and continued with his meal, avoiding looking at the young adults. "I've told you, I don't wish for her to be marked and broken. She needs to be able to endure our attentions."

Hermione was unable to stifle a gasp of discomfort as Draco yanked on her hair again, upping his pace. Her fingers dug into the table; she felt as though he was ripping her in half. _Just fucking finish, already, you sick, twisted swine!_ Neither young adult saw Lucius' glance of disgust. Hermione focused her eyes on the paper again. A smaller headline to the right of the main story made a trickle of grief run through her and more tears spilled down her cheeks. _Percy Weasley Killed in Attempted Apprehension._ She barely stifled a sob.

"Whatever." Draco rolled his eyes, grunted, then continued, "I will be gone for a while, off and on. The time-frame isn't clear. Could be a few days, could be a few weeks." Hermione's heart leapt with joy, but it was short lived. "Obviously, I'll have to floo or portkey home at least every three days to fuck this thing and renew the slave bond. For the most part, I'll be gone, though." Draco continued to pump in and out of her while he conversed as though he were drinking tea.

His statement was met with silence from his father for a few beats, the only sound was flesh slapping flesh. Hermione wasn't sure if she was relieved or not when the penetration became easier as her body caught up with his and provided its natural lubrication. At least it no longer felt as though he were using sandpaper up her vaginal passage.

"Why?" Lucius finally asked.

"I'm being sent on a mission," Draco said evasively, his voice obviously strained as he neared his climax. "One I am not at liberty to discuss."

"You were with the Dark Lord this morning?" Lucius asked sharply.

"Ye-es," Draco's movements were becoming erratic and Hermione knew he was on the verge of coming. His hands in her hair relaxed a fraction. She was grateful he wasn't going to force her to orgasm.

"Where are you being sent?" Lucius inquired, now eyeing his son curiously.

"Abroad," Draco let out a grunt as he slammed into her core one last time. No other sound marked his climax, and he let go of her hair abruptly. She was just able to catch herself from slamming her face into the table. "Well, that's that." His tone was evilly indifferent as he watched Hermione bury her face into arms, attempting to hide herself from the two men in the room. He smirked nastily at the back of her head as he stepped back and adjusted his robes. Hermione kept her face buried in her arms, trying to conceal her degradation and embarrassment.

* * *

Lucius maintained his cool and detached façade while resolutely keeping his eyes off Draco and the spectacle before him. He didn't want to watch her debasement, he had no desire to let his son think he condoned this behavior. Lucius _didn't_ condone this behavior, it was disgusting.

This was a new Draco. A Draco who no longer seemed to need his father's approval. Lucius was frustrated that Draco felt the need to bring up her healed skin. It angered and disappointed him that Draco was blatantly disobeying his orders to not mark her. Especially her face. Merlin, that bruise across her face last night had nearly choked him with rage. It looked better today, from the couple quick glances he had gotten, but was still a yellow-green hue of destruction marring her pretty features. His eyes flew to Draco's face when he announced he was going to be gone.

"Where are you being sent?" It came out as more of a demand to be informed versus a question. His son's one-word answer didn't infuriate him enough to distract him from the fact Draco had let Hermione's hair go with no warning. He winced as he envisioned her face slamming into the table, causing her nose to break, and had to carefully let out a controlled breath of relief when she caught herself. Lucius' stomach clenched when she quickly buried her face in curled arms. How was he supposed to live with the knowledge of what his son was doing to her and not intervene? It was unspeakable. _You have to get over it. You cannot care about and protect this girl – you must make her mean nothing to you. She_ does _mean nothing to you!_

* * *

"A few tidbits of news for you, Father," Draco said as he stepped back from Hermione and the table. Afraid to move or bring attention to herself, Hermione did not look up. Draco spoke with a hint of amusement. "Bella harmed her pet Longbottom. He's in a coma."

"She always did like to play with her food until it was unresponsive," Lucius shrugged his shoulders like this was no big deal.

Draco was readjusting the cuffs on the sleeves of his robes as he continued. "That stick up his ass, Percy Weasley, and his half-blood fiancé, Penelope Clearwater, were found yesterday. Weasley was killed in the attempted capture. I'm sure some people would say he was gallant, trying to protect Clearwater." He rolled his eyes. "Such a stupid, typical Gryffindor – rushing back to save the girl. She was given to Hogwarts this morning." The words were said crisply and clearly, Hermione knew she was meant to hear every one of them.

"Nice for our young men to have a new toy," Lucius responded in a toneless voice, still reading the paper. "Anything else?"

"No. That's all the new information I overheard. I best get to my packing. Good-bye, Father."

"Safe travels, Draco." The elder Malfoy bade his son farewell. Hermione heard the doors slam shut and just barely quelled a startled jump. Then there was silence, a deep and profound silence.

She turned her head to the side, out of the confines of her arms and suffocating hair so she could pull in clean, deep breaths – attempting to calm her racing heart and subdue her embarrassment and grief. Neville and Percy were gone. She pressed one hand to her aching heart and used the fingertips of the other to smooth away the moisture of tears that had collected under her eyes. After a time, she reached back and pushed her skirt down, so it flowed over her backside.

Slowly, with as much dignity as she could muster, Hermione straightened herself. She found Lucius staring directly at her and raised her chin defiantly, even though her face was flaming. For the first time since she arrived, she had no desire to defend herself, but she'd be damned if she let him see that weakness. His gaze dropped, and she watched his shoulders rise and fall with what looked like steadying breaths.

"You may either sit and finish your meal, Miss Granger. Or, if you prefer, you may be excused. I will leave the decision up to you," he told her finally. Hermione's jaw dropped slightly with surprise, but she quickly recovered her composure.

"I will excuse myself, please," she said crisply, desperately controlling her voice. She watched him carefully, looking for any sign of the man he had been the morning before.

"Yes, yes, you're excused." He flicked his hand at her without bothering to look her way. She quickly moved to the doors of the dining room and the glowing parchment that would take her back to her quarters.

* * *

Honestly, Lucius was glad to see the back of Draco as he let himself out of the dining room. It would be a relief not having to worry what injury he would be faced with every time he looked at her. She would be safe and fairly comfortable while Draco was gone. Well, as long as the insufferable bloke he currently called his son didn't decide to beat her half to death every time he stopped in to maintain the slave bond. Perhaps going away would help distract Draco from his abusive tendencies. _Not likely_.

As much as he had told himself he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't speak to her, wouldn't go out of his way to be kind to her, he couldn't rip his eyes away from the trembling mass of young woman in front on him. Hermione's hair was sprawled in all directions, and her breath was coming in short pants. He knew she was preparing to right herself when he watched a hand slide back and shove her dress down. Regrettably, Lucius himself was not ready for the deadened look in her eyes when she straightened. He was also not ready for his own reaction. He found it took every ounce of control he possessed not to fly across the table and pull her into a comforting hug.

He wanted her soft, fawn eyes to look up at him with understanding. For her to know that it was not his desire to abuse her. Lucius wanted her to realize that he simply wanted peace in his home, and perhaps her acceptance of the bond and what it entailed. He ignored the small voice that pointed out that his reactions hinted he wanted more than mere acceptance from the girl. He ignored the voice that told him he cared more than he should. It was evident by the way he desperately wanted to promise her it would be fine, that he wouldn't let Draco touch her again.

The flash of movement from the sideboard instantly crushed any thoughts of comforting her. He forced himself to freeze, to look at her blankly with no sign of any regret or other emotion that would give away the turmoil that roiled in his mind and heart. He dropped his eyes and sucked in air, trying to stay the sick from crawling up his esophagus.

"You may either sit and finish your meal, Miss Granger. Or, if you prefer, you may be excused. I will leave the decision up to you." He was glad to hear the words come out with no betrayal of his frustrations.

Her quivering voice answered him, and he closed his eyes against her shame, still resolutely not looking at her, even though he knew she was staring at him. He imagined her eyes full of hurt accusations. He deserved it, but he did not wish to see it.

He flicked his hand quickly, urging her to leave. "Yes, yes, you're excused." _Go! Quickly!_ His eyes focused on her retreating back and the glowing parchment that would take her to the safety of her room. The moment the doors closed, Abraxas disappeared from the landscape.

Lucius waited for a beat before roaring his frustration. Frustration at his spying, traitorous father. Frustration at the son he didn't know anymore. Frustration at the girl that had wrecked the peace in his home and his mind. Above all, frustration with himself for not being able to ignore it all, to compartmentalize it.

His arm swung out, sending food and china and the damned fucking crystal to the ground.

* * *

When Hermione arrived in her room, she aimlessly wandered to her bed and leaned against the end of it. She could not believe that this was her life now. She heard what Draco said, and now understood another piece of the puzzle. They needed to fuck her to maintain the bond. So even if they tired of her, they would continue to force her. No matter what, as long as she remained bound to these two men, that's what her days would entail.

Her eyes shot up in surprise as the familiar sound of Apparation pulled her distant and non-focusing gaze to the small house elf…the house elf no longer allowed to speak to her. Her only friend, who was not even looking at her as she busied herself around Hermione's suite.

Looking away, she felt as though she were in fog. She noticed the French doors in front of her and found herself walking towards them, thinking some fresh air might be nice. The breeze was cool on her skin, and raised gooseflesh on her arms as she stepped onto the wet balcony. Moving to the banister, she looked out over the grounds. The sky remained grey with dark clouds and the air was damp. There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance. It matched her mood perfectly - darkness, despair, foreboding, helplessness.

Hermione let herself finally absorb the headlines she had seen and the words she had heard. Percy Weasley was dead. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been captured. She had not even known they were alive, but the paper had said Shacklebolt was the last standing member of the Order. That was probably true, she had seen almost everyone else in the Order die in the battle on that fateful day at Hogwarts. _Everyone is either captured or dead_.

"It's over," she whispered to herself. The reality of it was as assuring as it was suffocating. There was nothing left to fight for.

She let her thoughts drift to the other pieces of news she had gleaned from Draco's humiliating visit. _Poor Penelope._ Hermione had hardly known the Ravenclaw, but she had known that Percy loved her. If things had turned out differently, she might have been her sister-in-law. She could only imagine the horrors Penelope would endure at the hands of the adolescent boys of her former school. It was barbaric.

_There is no hope, Hermione._ This time there was no voice of reason to contradict her finalistic thoughts. _Draco will continue to abuse you; Lucius will do nothing to stop it. You'll be nothing more than a sex object and a punching bag until the end of your days. You might very likely end up at Hogwarts, meeting the same end as Penelope. You have no control over your destiny._ Tears trickled down her face without her notice as she resigned herself to her fate.

Then a new voice interjected and made itself heard. _You_ _ **do**_ _have a choice, Hermione. All you need to do is make the decision._ _Then this_ _can all_ _come to an end. You can be free._

In that moment, a feeling of clarity came over her. A wave of relief welcomed her like warm socks that had been sitting in front of the fire on a cold winter's morning. It was a deep-seated feeling of peace and power. She could finally take control. Her decision was instantaneous, there was no need to think it through.

"I can end this right now," she whispered as she peered over the balcony in front of her. The tranquility of it crept over her like the ivy on the bricks of her childhood home. It was so inviting, so luring. She could take away the control they so brutally held over her. She could take away the ability of anyone to ever hurt her or cause her pain again. She could see her friends.

The bannister railing was wet and cold, but she didn't care. She held tight as she lifted one leg and then the other over it. She stood for a moment with her hands behind her, grasping the slippery iron as she leaned forward slightly, her arms stretching out behind her. Her heels were firmly on the balcony, but her toes were not. She looked out in front of her before sliding her eyes closed. A small smile curled her lips as she imagined the beaming faces of Harry and Ron. Her best friends were waiting for her.

She saw Fred and George laughing, their freckled complexions lit with joy. She could smell Molly's roast clearly as her mind's eye watched Arthur carve it. She looked around to see the Weasley's and Harry gathered at the table on Christmas Day. She could picture Sirius, Tonks, Remus, and Teddy arriving at the Burrow with gifts as Dumbledore strode up the path behind them. Luna was smiling and beckoning her forward, making it easy for her to let go.

She felt the breeze brush her skin as she released the railing and plunged to the ground beneath her. An odd sense of joy grasped her for just a moment. Within a flash of letting go, however, her motion stopped. She felt herself being slowly levitated back up and onto the balcony.

_What?!_ Anger, despair, and unrecognized relief flooded through her as she saw the small elf watching her with large bulbous eyes.

"No, good witch! No!" Tinny scolded from a few feet away.

Hermione looked away, unable to bear the devastation in her small friend's eyes. Her knees suddenly felt like Jell-O and the gravity of what she had almost done caused her stomach to roil and she began to tremble so fiercely her teeth started to chatter. Her legs gave out and she crumbled to the wet balcony floor. She didn't hear the _crack_ of Tinny Disapparating. Hermione wanted to scream and rage, yet all that escaped her were wracking sobs. She had just wanted to die. Was that too much to ask? She just wanted it to be over!

_No, Hermione. Stop this behavior!_ A small voice of reason, that sounded suspiciously like Harry, echoed in the recesses of her thoughts. "Please, just let me die. Just let me die," she choked out, her voice muffled by the rain.

It had started to downpour and, while she knew she was getting drenched, she didn't have the desire or the will to move. Her tears were so abundant, she could see nothing but blurs of shapes and colors in front of her. She drew her knees up into the fetal position, coiling herself into a small ball.

Seconds later – or perhaps it was minutes, or even hours – a pair of familiar, strong arms effortlessly lifted her. _Warm. So warm_. She didn't realize how cold she was until she found herself cradled and pressed against a muscular wall of heat. Her teeth were still chattering, and her vision continued to be obscured by tears, but she felt herself being carried back into her suite. His voice was soothing, and she cried even harder when the uttered words were kind. "Shhh, it's going to be all right, Hermione. I've got you."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer: we own none of this and make no money from it. This universe and its characters belong to JK Rowling and her publishers.**

**Thanks, as always, to LissaDream, my co-writer and soul sister half way across the country :) We are diligently working on the next few chapters of _Master Mine,_ so be on the look out for an update, hopefully by week's end! **

**Thanks to all who comment!**

**Things become a little easier for Hermione in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

"Master Malfoy, sir! Young miss…she jumped, sir! Tinny stopped her before she hit the ground!" the little elf cried frantically.

"What?" Lucius muttered, confused and slightly irritated by the elf's intrusion. "What are you – "

"No time Master Lucius, sir. Please, comes with Tinny." Lucius stared at the elf's hand in shock as it grabbed his own and Apparated him before giving him a chance to respond. His equilibrium slightly shaken, he re-grounded himself instantly upon landing and watched the panicked elf dash out onto the balcony. Understanding washed over him like a bucket of ice cold water.

In ten quick strides, he could see her. He felt his chest constrict when his eyes fell on her shivering, sopping wet form. Her hair was plastered to her face and shoulders as rain hammered all around her. Her drenched, silk gown clung to her tiny frame. Her body was coiled into itself as she lay on the cold concrete and tile of the balcony. He stood frozen, several emotions striking him at once. The most prevalent being sheer relief that she wasn't dead on the cold, hard ground two stories below. Her words came out muffled and barely coherent. "Please, just let me die. Just let me die." It felt like all the blood in his body pooled to his feet. _Fuck!_

Within a second, he swooped down and scooped her into his arms. "Shhh. It's going to be all right, Hermione. I've got you." She was so light, despite being dripping wet. He held her close, quickly moving out of the rain and into her suite.

Her voice shuddered its response and his ears strained to hear the words she muttered. Her hands were clutched on his shirt, her face buried into his chest. "No, no…it's not going to be ok. Please, just let me be…please."

He pulled her tighter, his own clothes now wet, but his blood was boiling too hot for him to notice. He looked at the house elf who was watching with wide, heartbroken eyes. "Tinny, a cashmere robe now!" Lucius looked down at the pale and broken doe in his arms. She was such an innocent and for the first time he felt true, crushing guilt and self-hatred for the situation and his part in it. _This is your fault! You did this! You and your cursed son!_ He internally shook his head in dismay, not understanding these emotions. She was just a Muggle-born girl!

Noticing Tinny had started a fire, he carried her to the sofa and lay her down. "How about we get you out of this dress?" he asked softly.

"No!" Hermione flinched, her voice desperate. "Please, Lucius. No more. Don't touch me…please."

He watched her in dismay for a second. _She called me Lucius again. She thinks I'm going to rape her. She doesn't trust me. Why does this bother me so much?_ As though he were speaking to a wounded animal he was trying to capture, he said gently, "We need to get you into dry clothes, Princess. I'm not going to touch you any more than to simply help you." He grabbed the robe Tinny held out for him. "See? It's just a robe."

Hermione nodded and pulled herself up, her breaths coming in hiccupping gasps as her fingers shook to unzip the dress. Lucius raked his hand through his hair as he stood back, feeling helpless. "Tinny, help her."

The elf was on Hermione in a blink, magicking the zipper and fastenings open instantly. Hermione peeled the dress down her shivering body. Another muttering from the elf and the girl was completely dry. Lucius stepped forward and draped the robe around her naked form, and Hermione quickly slid her arms through the long sleeves, enveloping herself in the soft warmth. She then pulled her knees up close to her chest, burying her head in them as she wrapped her arms around her legs.

Not knowing what to say, but knowing he should say something, he glanced around the suite. He was stunned and relieved to find there were no unwanted visitors in the portraits or landscapes. Hesitantly, he sat down beside her. "Hermione, I realize how hard this – "

Her words were sharp and impatient, her eyes piercing with their intensity. "No. You don't have a _bloody_ clue. You can't possibly know what it's like to find out everyone you've ever loved or cared for is dead. To have absolutely no free will. To be raped over and over again. To be verbally and emotionally traumatized and physically brutalized…for…for something you have no control over!" Her looked morphed from despair to disgust.

"You sit here in your…your _castle_ …with your _demonic_ son, living your life as you choose, with the exception of having this…Mudblood filth thrown into your care. How _horrible_ it must be for you!"

Lucius wanted to rage at her, to tell her how wrong she was. To explain how his life was not his own. To defend his son, even though he knew there was no excuse. He watched as she buried her face into her knees again, sniffling and trying to subtlety wipe away her tears.

"Hermione, listen to me." He flinched when her eyes shot up to his with loathing, realizing that once again he had taken her free will. "What I mean is, please… Please, listen to me." He paused a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Despite what you think of me, and despite what I've done in the past, I take no pleasure in this situation."

Hermione's eyebrow shot up. Clearly, she didn't believe him.

He conceded the point. "Ok, let me re-phrase. Yes. I'm a man. I…enjoy our…well, yes, I enjoy…the sex with you. I won't lie to you."

He expected her to yell and to call him a rapist, but instead he was surprised by the contemplative look on her face. He continued, "What I don't like is this bond. I don't like being forced to force you. I don't like seeing you hurt – physically or otherwise." He spoke quietly in a whisper while shooting his eyes around the suite once again to confirm they were still sans portrait visitors. He looked back at her, his words earnest.

"I don't want violence in my life or in my home. I'm tired of it. I want peace. I don't condone my son's behavior, Hermione. I don't approve of it, but he…he has his own demons to face and – "

Once again, she interrupted him. Once again, he let her. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say about that twisted sadist you call a son, Mr. Malfoy. He may be your child, but he's my personal hell."

Lucius sighed and then said quietly, "You called me Lucius a moment ago. You may continue to do so, at least when we are alone." He watched as her gaze softened a touch as it locked with his. She seemed to be searching for something.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she stood up abruptly. Her words were furious as she stepped backwards and away from him, shaking her head. "No, no! I won't fall for your tricks again. I won't be led into the delusion that you are kind or that you care."

His jaw fell open in stunned silence from her outburst as she turned away from him and stomped to her bed. He was distracted slightly. Her stomp was so childlike that it reminded him how young she was. Far too young to be dealing the cards she had been dealt. He watched as she climbed onto the bed before once again curling into a ball. He heard her let out a shaky sigh, and then desperate words poured out of her, muffled from her face being buried in her pillow. "Stop pretending that you care, I can't…I just can't…"

He stood up and glanced around the suite, finding it was still safe to continue their talk. He sighed as he approached her, trying to swallow against the knot in his throat. "The truth is, Hermione, I do care. I…I can't explain it. I shouldn't care, but I can't seem to stop it. You are…a Mud…a Muggle-born, which is something I was raised to despise. I was preached to about your inferiority and the use of stolen magic. I was taught you are an abomination to all that is magically natural."

He didn't know what he expected. However…

He didn't expect her to roll over, face him, and meet his eyes with her own expressive orbs.

He didn't expect the defiant look to cross her delicate features that had been broken only moments before.

He didn't expect her to right herself and slide off the bed and step towards him, shrewdly meeting his stare with a furious glare.

He didn't expect her words to be spoken with such conviction. "I am _not_ an abomination. I am _not_ inferior, and I did _not_ _steal_ my magic."

He didn't expect her to be standing so close, staring up at him, not intimidated, and with fire in her eyes.

He didn't expect the meek doe of ten minutes ago to become a fiery woodnymph before his very eyes. "I am a _powerful_ witch, Lucius Malfoy. Even _you_ can't deny that! But I'm also a good person. I'm trustworthy and hardworking and so much more deserving of a better life than the shit storm I'm enduring right now. I shouldn't have to be standing here defending myself to an ill-informed bigot like you!"

He didn't expect to look down and discover her finger had been tapping his chest with every word she spoke.

He didn't expect to sense the exquisite magic that seemed to spark from her as her temper escalated.

He didn't expect to once again be completely captivated by her passion and conviction.

He didn't expect to be drawn to her…

…and he certainly…

…didn't expect to kiss her.

* * *

It was like a light switch was flipped with his ignorant, prejudicial words. Hermione was enraged. _How dare he?! How dare he call me an abomination?!_ Gone was her despair and desperation. How thick could he be? As she slid out of bed and stalked towards him, her fury only intensified. How many purebloods could perform wandless magic? He certainly couldn't. Yet _she_ could! Angry words started to pour out of her as she crossed to him.

Her voice was deliberate and crisp, all weakness and vulnerability gone. "I am a _powerful_ witch, Lucius Malfoy. Even _you_ can't deny that! But I'm also a good person. I'm trustworthy and hardworking and so much more deserving of a better life than the shit storm I'm enduring right now. I shouldn't have to be standing here defending myself to an ill-informed bigot like you!"

Her right hand's forefinger froze on his chest as she stared into his steel grey Malfoy eyes. She felt a slight flutter in her heart as those eyes darkened to a stormy grey. She knew it was coming…a scathing remark, a cruel command…

She didn't expect him to kiss her.

She didn't expect his lips to feel soft and warm.

She didn't expect her heart to race

She didn't expect to close her eyes.

She didn't expect him to freeze and pull back suddenly.

She didn't expect his hand to shoot to his mouth as though he were burned.

She didn't expect him to turn away and stride out of her room abruptly.

She _did_ expect to feel disappointed. After all, disappointment was her only constant and dependable companion.

* * *

Lucius stormed into his bath, ripping his clothes off as he turned on the shower with a flick of his wand, making it extra hot. He needed to scald himself. "What the bloody hell was that?" he mumbled to himself.

He stepped into the hot spray of water, his heart still racing. Closing his eyes, he took calming breaths as he smoothed the water over his long, platinum locks.

_Merlin, what is wrong with me?_ He vigorously scrubbed his face and body, as though the harder he scrubbed, the more of her and what she was doing to him would go down the drain.

Despite his efforts, he couldn't get her out of his mind. He slumped and leaned his forehead against the shower wall. _Suicide! Jumping to her death!_ He had not really thought her capable of such a thing. _The healer warned you!_ Guilt once again overwhelmed him as well as dread. Imagine if she had succeeded? He feared the Dark Lord's reaction. Did his Master know about her wandless magic? There was not much the Dark Lord didn't know, especially with Abraxas' portrait at his beck and call.

Standing tall again, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. As he towel-dried his body and hair, he realized there was a command he needed to make. It was an egregious oversight that he had not done so already. That kiss had completely wiped away his senses. He could not let that happen again.

As he pulled on his robe and walked into his dressing room, he scolded himself for speaking to her so openly in her suite. He had looked for visitors, yes, but it was still dangerous. If he felt the need to converse with her in the future, he would need to find a safe place – away from the prying eyes of his dead, traitorous father and the other various portraits who seemed to find amusement in his misery.

After dressing quickly, he magicked his hair dry and pulled it back into a black string tie. Not bothering to knock, he whispered the password and entered her suite. Looking around he didn't see her and a sense of panic began to wash over him. The panic meter topped when he found her back on her balcony.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing?" he barked, sounding angrier than he truly meant to.

She jumped, clearly startled as she turned back towards him. She was holding a mug of tea and her expression was not one of despair. She seemed calm, perhaps even confident.

He stepped towards her, formally. "I regret I have another command that I have no choice but to make. You are not allowed to intentionally harm yourself, or end your own life."

Her posture stiffened slightly, matching his formality, and her chin rose in defiance. "No, of course not. I wouldn't want to deprive you or your son of that pleasure."

He was struck with a vision of the Dark Lord commanding him to kill her. He felt bile rise into his throat. He coughed lightly. "I believe our earlier conversation encompassed my feelings on that matter, Miss Granger. There is no need to revisit the topic." He could see a flash of movement in one of the paintings in the corner of her suite, near the table and chairs. "Dinner is at seven o'clock. I feel like keeping it informal. You will join me in my chambers at that time."

Hermione watched the retreating form of the enigma that was Lucius Malfoy. She looked back out over the grounds. The rain had passed and the sun was peeking through. The combination of retreating dark, grey clouds and approaching white, fluffy ones seemed symbolic.

Tinny had dried the furniture and surfaces of the balcony when Hermione had ventured back out here. The elf had also not left her side. Hermione glanced at her small keeper and gave her a gentle smile. Tinny's eyes remained large and wary, but Hermione didn't miss the slight nod of understanding the elf gave her in return.

Hermione turned her gaze back to the expansive estate before her. She had forced herself to step out here and face what she had done. She knew if she didn't, she might not ever be able to come out here again.

She looked down at the ground below her, morbid thoughts causing her to imagine her own disfigured and crumbled body. She couldn't help but wonder if Lucius would have really cared. Something told her, and she hated herself for trusting that voice, that he would.

* * *

Seven o'clock was approaching fast. After a long nap, Tinny had her cleaned, shaved, buffed, and dressed in a simple, but pretty, lavender gown. Lucius had said it was an informal dinner, and while it was a dress, it wasn't a dress that would be appropriate for dinner in the formal dining room. Hermione was stunned with the self-realization that she had learned something so worthless and trivial.

She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily as she caught her reflection in the mirror. Tinny had charmed her hair into soft waves and had pulled the front strands out of her face with a simple clip. Leaving it mostly long and draping over her shoulders and back.

She threw a quick glance at the clock as her heart began to pound from the ridiculous bond. Approaching the connecting door, Hermione drew in a deep, calming breath and pushed it open.

As she walked into his chambers, her jaw fell slightly in shock. Lucius was standing next to the small dining table dressed in a pair of faded Levi's and a t-shirt – a Rolling Stones 1976 European Tour t-shirt. It was also faded and slightly tight, but not in a bad way. On the contrary…

She nonchalantly moved her eyes down his form, and back up again, forcing herself to steel her features from betraying her inner dialogue. _Lucius Malfoy is hot!_ She vaguely remembered thinking he had a nice body before, but, given their circumstances, it was hardly anything she had focused on. _What is the matter with you, Hermione? One little kiss and you're gawping like a love-struck teenager. Enough, already._

She was so distracted, she didn't see his slipper sticking out from beside the chair she was passing. Her foot landed on it awkwardly and she felt herself stumble forward, right into Lucius' strong arms, which caught her and righted her effortlessly.

Her eyes shot up to his and she felt an unwelcome blush creep over her face. His expression was flat, but then his forehead wrinkled in what appeared to be consideration. _Great! Caught…blushing at one of the biggest pureblood bigots in the galaxy, not to mention your keeper and rapist._ _How daft are you?_

"Are you all right?" he asked politely.

"Yes," she responded resolutely. "Thanks."

He let go of her arm and pulled the chair out for her. "Thank you," she said formally as he continued to asses her.

He stepped to his own seat and sat down. Neither spoke as Bilby arrived in Apparition, magicking two covered dinner trays before them. A snap of the elf's fingers and the lids disappeared revealing Spaghetti Bolognese. Fresh, warm, buttered French bread and a bottle of red wine were also on the table. Hermione was surprised when Lucius picked up the bottle and poured, first her glass and then his own.

He noticed her amazed look and tilted his head. "I told Bilby we would be fine on our own this evening. Even I get bored of the formality of fine dining sometimes."

They began to eat in silence, an awkwardness still present. Truthfully, Hermione couldn't remember ever _not_ feeling slightly awkward around Lucius Malfoy – except perhaps breakfast the day before. This was different though, there was something between them now. He had kissed her – chastely, yes – but something had driven him to do it. Now, she found herself believing he really did care about her well-being. This left her feeling unsure of how to act.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, she looked at him curiously. "Rolling Stones?" She cocked her eyebrow playfully. "Don't tell me they're actually wizards."

He nodded with a small grin as he swallowed and wiped his mouth. "Uhh, no. Severus was a fan when we were younger. He dragged me to a few shows."

"Hmm, I can't picture it. You and…him...at a Muggle rock concert?" She tried not to let out a giggle, but failed.

He pretended to be offended, but couldn't help but return her humor. "It was...an experience."

Hermione sipped her wine. "Yeah, but it was a _Muggle_ concert! You like Muggle music?"

Lucius contemplated her question before answering. "I don't hate all things Muggle, Hermione. Certainly, there are Muggle things I enjoy. Muggle food and wines, for instance." He tilted his head. "And yes, some Muggle music is quite good, as well."

"But you – "

"Let me finish. What I have a problem with is the Muggle world encroaching on the wizarding world. Muggle-borns, they don't belong." He silenced the comment on the tip of her tongue her with a look. "I realize that you do not agree. How could you? And, I'll concede that you are an exception. I find it less offensive that _you_ are a Muggle-born. You are…a deviation from the rule."

Hermione tried to stay her anger. It would do no good and she didn't want to fight with him. "We're all just human beings, you know. Magic or not, we are each of us entitled to live our lives," she half whispered diplomatically as she twirled her next fork of pasta in her spoon.

It was silent for a moment of contemplation before he answered her. "Let's discuss something else, shall we?" His words were more of a command than a request, but strangely, she found she didn't mind. At least he wasn't taking away her free will this time.

The silence was awkward, and Hermione wracked her brain for a conversation topic. Magic was what they had in common and if they couldn't discuss it…. _Hogwarts! They could discuss Hogwarts_. Sadly, that made her think of her dead friends and poor Penelope Clearwater, though. Perhaps the awkward silence would be better.

Hermione had eaten less than half of what was on her plate, but found she was quite full. Lucius refilled her wine glass after she swallowed the last drop, so she sipped at it as she watched him finish his meal.

When his plate was almost empty, he tossed his napkin on the table and leaned back in his chair. His eyes were on hers, it seemed he was contemplating something. Then he chanced a glance around the room, noticing Abraxas dozing in his portrait. He leaned forward. "I would like to show you something, would you be agreeable to coming with me?"

It was said in a quiet whisper that left Hermione a bit confused and she was astonished he was asking such a thing instead of simply demanding her compliance.

She nodded. "Uh, yes. Sure."

He pushed back from the table and then assisted her out of her chair. He smirked, and said teasingly, "Mind the slipper."

"Yes, thank you for that," she replied sarcastically. She was disturbed when her feet stepped to the side without her doing it. _Damn bond!_

Lucius had taken a few steps and turned back, giving her a curious look. "You told me to mind the slipper, so my feet went that way instead of following you." She gestured to where she had stepped.

Her eyes cocked up and she was about to say something derogatory when he interrupted her. "I do not require explanations for such tedious things, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt slightly stung by his comment. Had they not just enjoyed a somewhat civil dinner? He grabbed her hand and Apparated them away without warning.

She was jolted on landing and might have fallen if not for him holding her upright. "I hate side along Apparation," she mumbled.

"Well, it would have been quite a distance to walk, and given your propensity to clumsiness, it seemed – "

She pulled her hand away, interjecting before he could finish his sentence. "I am not clumsy! Jeez, I trip once and..." She didn't notice the teasing smirk on his face. Instead, her attention was on her surroundings. _The barn!_ It was unlike any barn she had ever seen. It was huge and clean, and didn't smell of manure.

She jumped back as a large, white dog came bounding over and half jumped on Lucius. "Jupiter! Down boy, down!" Lucius spoke firmly and held his palm out in a stop gesture. The dog whimpered and sat, his tail going at least two hundred wags per minute. "That's my good boy," he spoke to the animal softly and stroked his head tenderly. Hermione's eyes moved from the dog to Lucius' expression. She was amazed to see the smile and look of total adoration on the man's face. The dog licked Lucius' hand and then seemed to calm, keeping his eyes on Lucius faithfully.

Lucius took a deep breath, as he looked around the huge space. "I love it out here. The smell of the leather, the tranquility of it. The animals."

_Who is this man?_ Hermione felt more confused than ever as she took in his relaxed, pleasured expression. His eyes turned to her and couldn't miss the look of surprise on her face. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just...you shocked me is all."

He watched her for a moment, contemplating. "I brought you out here because I need to speak with you...away from prying ears and eyes."

"What do you mean? We were alone in your suite…weren't we?"

He regarded her for a moment. "Hermione, I don't like what is going on under my roof. Unfortunately, if I say anything or intervene in any way, it is reported to the Dark Lord."

"I don't understand," she said quietly, her brow furrowed in frightened confusion.

"It's the portraits. They...that is…some of them – some of them do not approve of you and are quick to report your doings, as well as mine and Draco's actions to the Dark Lord." He paused and watched her eyes grow large with understanding.

"We have been watched since the first night, and because of it, I have not been able to always be as…forthright as I would have preferred. Being watched requires me to act a certain way, and it prevents me from…well – brunch today, for instance. What Draco did was…" He closed his eyes, obviously struggling to find the right words. "It was deplorable in my eyes, but Abraxas – my dear father – was watching. Then there's Draco. Draco is…Draco feels he has something to prove to the Dark Lord. I fear it makes him take things too far. He is grieving...and he – "

Hermione interrupted him in a scathing tone. "Yes. You were concerned about him breaking the crystal, if memory serves."

Lucius shook his head. "You prove my point, Hermione," he gave her a sad smile. "That was me acting the part. I was trying to dissuade his behavior, but not for fear of the crystal."

"Oh," she whispered, thinking back on Lucius' behavior. She recalled that he excused her right after the incident. Perhaps that had been meant as an act of kindness, not indifference.

Hermione had noticed the portraits, certainly, but she had never given much thought to them. She felt foolish for missing something so incredibly obvious. Phineas Nigellus Black had proven how useful portraits could be when she, Harry, and Ron were on the run. It was how Snape had located them in the forest. The memory of her friends caused her heart to clench, but the thought of Severus gave her pause.

Not wanting to play her hand by asking her most pressing questions outright, she beat around the bush, so to speak. "So...is there anything in particular you wish to clarify? Now that we're alone?"

He nodded. "In the future, if I send you to the stables for a task, it will be because I wish to speak openly with you about something."

"Ok," she said quietly, disappointed he had not shared something that would have given her hope. Something like, _"I'm really working for the Order with Snape and you will be freed by dawn."_ She let out a mirthless soft laugh. She tried to hide her displeasure and attempted to find solace in the fact he was being kind to her and had the desire to be direct with her.

She looked up at him earnestly. Her voice came out barely above a whisper, "Lucius, am I going to be killed?" She had not planned to ask that question and was surprised the words had slipped from her mouth. She felt incredibly vulnerable in the wake of his kindness. "I'm…I'm scared." Her hands were grasping her dress, her eyes were wide and sincere as she looked up at him, silently pleading for him to tell her it would all be ok.

Hermione could swear she saw pain in his eyes. He answered honestly, but kindly. "Truthfully, Hermione, I don't know. But I will do my best to protect you. I do not wish you harm, I do not wish you dead." After a beat, he continued. "I also promise to give you a chance to explain if I ever find myself…angry with you again." He ran his hands through his hair. "I made a terrible mistake in the dungeon yesterday. I…I was impulsive and unfair."

She studied him closely, and could see what looked like genuine anguish. She took comfort in his words. "I believe you. Lucius. For some reason. I believe you."

He hesitated for a moment, but then added, "In the future, if you do something that would require me to punish you, I will send you to the dungeons where we cannot be observed. We will discuss what happened. I beg you not to do anything to force my hand."

She nodded slowly, understanding what he was saying.

They stared at each other for a moment before he inhaled and looked around. "We need to get back. We'll come back here again, soon. I'm sure you have more questions, but it's getting late and I'm tired."

He took her hand as though to Disapparate, but paused. He looked at her sternly. "You will sleep in my room from now on, Hermione. If circumstances change, we will discuss you sleeping in your own quarters again."

Hermione's jaw fell, and her heart started to race in anticipation of what that really meant. Lucius shook his head in dismay, clarifying, "For the simple reason I feel the need to watch over you. Draco…I don't know when he'll show up, but I want to be able to run interference if I can. You have also given me many reasons to doubt your safety from yourself."

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She wasn't exactly sure she'd ever be able to sleep again after what she had been through the last couple of days. It was all quite overwhelming.

Lucius had surprised her when he had told her that she would be sharing his bed, especially when he told her it would be a permanent change. He astounded her even more when he threw a couple pillows between them before indicating for her to take the left side of the bed. This had made it clear he was keeping his word – he would not be forcing his attentions on her this evening. She wondered how long that would last.

While sex with Lucius was far less torture then sex with Draco, she was too emotionally fragile to deal with the internal turmoil the act caused after the day she'd had. He seemed to sense this, and for that she was grateful.

He had also stunned her by asking if the books in her room were to her liking. When she said she wasn't into such frivolousness, he had chuckled and told her she could help herself to the library, implying he'd show her where it was the next day.

She rolled over to study her bedmate. She wondered if Lucius knew how young and unguarded he looked while he was sleeping. What he had done for her today had changed things immensely. This nightmare life she had been living had the tinge of a promise to be better. She now knew Lucius could not stop Draco from doing what he did to her. She now understood that the portraits were watching the Malfoy men – and probably herself, as well – at all times.

Lucius had implied that he would do his best to be kind to her, he had promised to do his best to keep her safe, but he had also made it clear he would have to seem indifferent and be harsh if they were being watched. He had told her he regretted torturing her, but he made her understand that he would still have to make a show of it by sending her to the dungeons where no portraits could sneak and watch.

She – Hermione Granger, Mudblood – had received all those words from _him_ – Lucius Malfoy, Pureblood King. Sighing, she rolled onto her back again, pressing a hand to her fluttering stomach. She didn't understand what was happening, but she found herself having a reluctant affection for the man. Why? She couldn't begin to guess. He had raped her, tortured her, ignored her – but now it seemed he was determined to save her. Dare she let him?

Next to her, Lucius flipped restlessly in his sleep and she stopped breathing until he settled again. She was too restive. In her emotional upheaval, she had napped most of the afternoon away. This led her to the conclusion she had simply slept too much to be tired now. She had to get out of bed or she'd wake him for sure.

Hermione tiptoed to the loo and slowly went through the process or relieving herself and then washed her hands, trying to pass time. She paused just before opening the door, noticing a soft dressing gown that hung on the backside of it. Hesitating only momentarily, she pulled it on. She had to roll the sleeves three times to use her hands and it fell to well past her knees, but the material was warm and luxurious.

Hermione heaved another great sigh before leaving the bathroom. Gently, she closed the door and then pressed herself back against it, allowing her eyes to adjust from the low light of the moon that had flooded the bathroom to the almost complete darkness of the bedroom suite. Once she could at least make out shapes, so she didn't fall over anything, she made her way to the door. It was pure curiosity that made her check, even though she highly doubted she could exit the room of her own volition. She froze in place, holding her breath, when the gentle _click_ of the catch releasing the frame rang through the silent room. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she listened for any sign that Lucius had woken.

After a solid minute, she slipped out of the room into the hall. Only every third sconce was lit at night, giving off more shadow than light and making Hermione feel nervous. Yes, Lucius had told her she could help herself to the library. However, he hadn't said the middle of the night would be the time to do it. She wrapped her arms around herself.

She wandered the manor, doing her best to keep track of where she was so she could find her way back to Lucius' suite on her own. Although, if she got hopelessly lost, she was sure she could call for Tinny to help her. She peeked in rooms that were open and pulled open doors that were closed, but nothing was really catching her attention. There was apparently no library to be found on this floor. She had decided to stay on the same floor to minimize her chances of getting turned around, but after a time of wandering and finding only bedrooms and studies and bathrooms, she changed her mind.

Hermione descended to the first floor using the grand staircase that deposited her in the foyer. The stone under her feet was cold and she looked at the front doors of the manor home with longing in her heart. Could she open them? Could she run? She knew she wouldn't even if the doors would open for her. She'd never get away. Malfoy Manor most likely had extensive wards and she would be caught before she had even started across the grounds. The punishment would most likely be out of Lucius' hands – being he would most likely be punished for her attempt to escape, as well.

She moved her gaze to the first door to the right of the main entrance. Upon inspection, it was a large coat closet with benches to sit and remove shoes. She didn't bother to go in and explore, instead moving to the next door. Magically, a low light bloomed in the room upon its disturbance and Hermione's heart leapt into her throat before it started pounding with excitement.

It appeared to be a parlor of some sort. She did not miss the dozens of portraits that hung on the walls. She looked around warily for a moment, only noticing a slight shadow passing between the frames. This gave her pause, but she wasn't doing anything wrong, so decided she couldn't be bothered by them – even when they started whispering to each other. She couldn't be bothered, because in the middle of the room stood one of the most beautiful grand pianos she had ever seen in her life.

It was closed, and the low light prevented her from seeing the intricate details of the instrument, but it didn't stop her from feeling for them under her fingertips. Lightly, she dragged her hands over the glossy piano, feeling subtle inlays in the wood. Instinctively she reached to carefully flip the top board before grasping the corner of the lid in both hands and hefting it open. She felt around inside the instrument to locate the top board prop, she chose the short one and fitted it deftly into the cup. Once she was satisfied the lid was propped properly, she moved back to the front of the instrument.

The piano bench was heavy and quilted on top and made a rumbling sound that startled some of the portraits when she slid it out. "Hey, Mudblood girl, you shouldn't be playing around with something so expensive!" It was a female voice. Hermione decided to ignore the comment. They were only portraits. People dead and gone. They were just words, she wouldn't let the words hurt her. Best to ignore them all, she really _was_ doing nothing wrong. There was nothing to report back to Voldemort. She sat herself on the bench and tapped the pedals underneath, muttering their names as she went. Soft and sustaining. The instrument was old enough there was no sostenuto pedal. She pressed the soft pedal down and decided she would leave it down. She was very far away from the master suite, and she could probably play at full forte with the long board prop up, but she felt it better to be safe than sorry. Lucius had told her she could use the library, not the piano.

She slid the fall board out of the way and her fingers smoothed across the glistening keys, they felt silky. How long had it been since she had done this? Over a year – she had definitely not played the piano while on the run. The Weasley's didn't own a piano, and she had spent the majority of the summer with them before she and boys started their mission. Before that she had been organizing her parents' new lives and packing. It had to have been while she was still in school for sixth year. In the little music room near Professor Flitwick's office. On that crappy little upright Bentley. Her lips quirked in a fond smile. It had been perfectly out of tune and the one F sharp key hadn't worked properly.

Locating middle C, she started to play some soft chords and almost groaned with the pleasure of it. The tone reverberated around the room and bounced back to tickle her ears with stunning beauty. She wished she could make out the logo to know who it had been made by. Perhaps she could come here during the day and really get a good look at it. The portrait had been right – it was obviously an expensive piano.

She moved from gentle chords to scales, warming up rusty fingers. She had played the piano since she could remember. Her younger years had been crammed with lessons and recitals – her mother her biggest fan. She was quite good. Not concert pianist worthy, by any means. However, if she had been as interested in the piano as she had been her studies, she could have been a professional.

As it were, she played the piano for her own enjoyment. She had taken lessons until her piano instructor had insisted she couldn't teach her anymore – that if she wanted to continue, to sign up for lessons through the University. Jean Granger had encouraged her daughter to do so, but then she received her Hogwarts letter.

Through the years she had maintained at least a weekly practice session. Often slipping away on her own to play for an hour or two. She took more time in the summers, especially when she was home with her parents. It was a talent that had fallen to the wayside, but the muscle memory was ingrained in her psyche. She paused in her chords to see if her memory could pull up a piece of music, beginning to end, to really give herself a work out. She gave a little melancholy smile when she realized she probably wouldn't be able to remember anything until she started to play. So, she picked a chord and started automatically.

A few moments later, she registered that she was playing Air on the G String by Bach. Pretty, simple, and hauntingly lovely. Her left hand effortlessly moved through the walking bass and she allowed herself to get lost in the piece. So much so, that the faint smattering of applause when she finished made her give an undignified yelp of surprise.

One voice broke above all the others, snootily commenting. "A few errors here and there, but overall not too terrible. It's been many years since someone has been able to properly play that thing. Would you consent to another piece?"

"I – I suppose I could," Hermione muttered ungraciously. Damned if she just wished she could be alone.

"Wonderful! How about some Beethoven?" Hermione wished she could see the portraits. What she wouldn't give for a wand to light this room to its full potential.

"Any particular piece?" she asked the room at large.

"Für Elise," a different voice called out. "Do you think she can do it?" The same voice was no longer speaking directly to Hermione.

"I can do it," Hermione grumbled. _Snooty, hoity-toity portraits_. She almost growled her annoyance.

It was a bit of a faster piece than what she had been playing, but she was properly warmed up at this point. She began with the trill at a bit slower of a tempo then was called for, but quickly worked her way up to the poco moto that was dictated. She loved this piece of music, if she were honest. There was so much personal emotive translation that could be done throughout the piece. She lost herself.

* * *

"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed. "Lucius, wake up!"

"Wha-?" Lucius rolled, still half asleep, into a sitting position. "Cissa? What's wrong?"

"You must come see this," the portrait announced firmly. "Ladies Parlor."

"Wait…where's Herm – the Mudblood?"

Narcissa rolled her pretty painted eyes at him. "With me, Lucius, you can call her by her first name. Even Miss Granger would be fine. I don't think any of the other portraits would think anything of you calling her Miss Granger. Now, she's the reason I'm dragging you out of bed. Stay outside in the foyer, I think you'll be impressed."

Puzzled, but curious, Lucius went to retrieve his dressing gown only to find the bloody thing missing. He pulled a light robe out of his dressing room and headed directly for the grand staircase. He could hear the piano the moment he hit the top of the stairs and came to an abrupt halt.

He hadn't heard that piano played since before his mother passed away. It must have been going on almost twenty-five years. His heart constricted as she finished the current piece she had been playing. The ending notes of Für Elise drifted away and dissipated through the foyer. When she started the next piece, he slowly sunk to sit on the top step.

The haunting, melodious strains of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata caressed him gently as he closed his eyes. It wasn't perfect, she had hit a couple wrong notes that she professionally glossed over as if they didn't exist, but it was damn near. The emotion she was pouring into the music was getting him even more than the fact his mother's piano was being played well for the first time in decades.

Lucius wanted to see her play with a sudden ferociousness. Barely making a sound, he glided down the stairs and moved slowly to stand by the door. It was open just enough to make out her slender silhouette. He watched in utter fascination as her body swayed and moved with the music she was creating. Her head sometimes rolling back or to the side through tempos and crescendos and decrescendos. It was striking to behold, how she had lost herself in what she was doing.

It was hard to believe that the girl he watched playing with such intensity was the same girl who had tried to take her life this afternoon. He swallowed hard around a lump in his throat as he leaned against the wall to continue to watch her. The low flames of the one flickering candelabra threw shadows across her face, her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly ajar as she succumbed to the music. It was enchanting.

He decided then and there he would stay home from ME tomorrow and show her the entirety of the Manor. He would introduce her to this room properly and let her make it hers, if she desired. Lucius felt a tingling of hope. Perhaps between this room and the library she would find some happiness. Perhaps it would be enough to keep her sane and help her remember and realize there were still things worth living for – fighting for. Just like saving her was giving him something worthwhile to fight for.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same disclaimer as always.
> 
> AN: A huge shout out to my co-writer LissaDream for her amazing talent. The beautiful descriptions of the Manor in this chapter are all her. I don’t even attempt this type of detail. There are links at the bottom of the chapter that will take you to the pictures that inspired her amazing talent. 
> 
> LD and I are already working on the next chapter and will post as soon as it’s completed.
> 
> LissaDream has agreed to officially co-write the rest of The Affair with me which is really going to help move that story along. She has been basically writing it with me for quite a while now, so I wanted her to get the credit she deserves and have officially added her as co-author. We are going to work on getting one chapter posted and will then be getting back to Master Mine, which we know many of you are eager for the next update. We are eager to get back to that story as well!
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!!!!

* * *

  **Chapter 12 **

* * *

 

Lucius quickly crept back to bed when Hermione stopped playing the piano, leaving no indication he had been listening. A few minutes later, he pretended to be asleep when she quietly padded her way back to his chambers and climbed into the massive bed. He smiled to himself when she let out a small exhale of relief, believing her exploits had been undiscovered.

It didn’t take her long to drift off, but Lucius was left stirring. He simply couldn’t fall back to sleep. Not one for wasting time, he soundlessly slipped from the bed to his bedroom desk where he grabbed parchment and quill. He watched the sleeping girl as he penned a note explaining he would not be at Malfoy Enterprises that day. He placed the note in the outpost tray and within seconds it glowed and disappeared – on its way to the Mansion’s owlery.

He turned back to the slumbering beauty in his bed. It had been a long time since a companion had slept beside him for the entirety of a night. Narcissa preferred her own bed for sleeping and would silently and gracefully leave for her own chambers after he fell asleep. Even then, she only came to his bed for lovemaking, and that had substantially slowed over the years.

He slipped off his robe and climbed back into the bed, taking care not to wake the girl. Lucius knew sleep was a great healer. While her body was handily healed by the potions, creams, and balms, her mind would only heal with rest and peace… _and music and books_.

Lucius rolled onto his back, thinking over the events of the day. He was curious where Draco had been sent by the Dark Lord. Draco was one who would typically brag about whatever task he had been entrusted with. It was odd he didn’t have the same puffed out chest and smirk of arrogance that was his typical display on these occasions. The fact he was keeping quiet had Lucius on edge. The boy was so desperate to prove his worth that Lucius didn’t necessarily trust his judgment. He worried Draco would act impulsively or without enough consideration for his person. All this to prove his worth to a master who, in all reality, held no value in anyone. Everyone was expendable to the Dark Lord.

Then there was the girl sleeping next to him. Lucius glanced at her; she was laying on her right side, facing him with her hands curled under her chin. Her face was so peaceful while she slept. Gone were the worry lines and the flickers of tension that normally peppered her expression. Even when she tried to be stoic and show no emotion, there were little tells that gave her away.

Hermione’s eyes betrayed her the most. They were exceptionally expressive. Today those orbs had been dulled, all hope had been gone. It had affected him more than he cared to admit to himself. He had witnessed such an array of emotion in those eyes over the course of her time in the Manor; from hope, to anger, to indignation, to despair and humiliation – he had even seen her humor. His favorite by far, however, had been her passionate, self-righteous fury – even though he told her he wouldn’t tolerate such outbursts. It was unfamiliar, yet somehow refreshing and invigorating to have this slip of a girl unleash her magnificent wrath on him. Even Narcissa had never dared such a thing. Knowing full well Lucius would not have allowed it, her ways of persuasion had been much more diplomatic. However, with Hermione, it had been captivating. It was what had driven him to kiss her… _Circe, that kiss!_  The memory of the chaste taste of her soft, sweet mouth caused a stirring in him. His eyes moved to that inviting mouth, with its plump, pale-rose colored lips. He scolded himself for his reaction. _You are a grown wizard! Stop reacting like a lust crazed adolescent!_

He let out a puff of indignation as he turned abruptly to his right side, away from the sleeping temptress. The soft mewl that escaped her mouth at that moment may as well have been the French Belfry of Lille clanging away in the bed next to him. It jarred him and rattled the walls around his heart. The walls he had spent his life reinforcing.

In his entire adult life there had only been two people who’d had the power to crack that foundation; Draco and Narcissa. Draco from the moment he arrived, screaming and crying as he was forced to leave the safety and comfort of his mother’s womb. Narcissa, from the moment of her death. That was when Lucius realized the depths of his love for her – and it had been too late. Too late for him to do anything about and it had nearly destroyed him.

A small voice in his head whispered disturbing words. Disturbing words that terrified him and thrilled him at the same time _. It’s not too late with this one. This could be only the beginning._

* * *

Hermione slowly opened her eyes as consciousness inched over her. The room was light, only it was not her room. Then she remembered. It was _his_ bed, the biggest pureblood supremist of them all. Lucius Malfoy had commanded her to his bed…not for sex, but for sleep. So that he could watch over her and protect her from herself and his son. Lucius Malfoy had confided in her, made promises to her _. Could it have been a dream?_

As she continued to wake, she noticed the bed was empty next to her. She rolled over to face the massive suite and was surprised to find Lucius reading the paper on the leather wingback chair in front of his fireplace. She looked at the clock _. Eight forty-five!_ She sat up quickly, why hadn’t he woken her for sex?

He studied her for a moment, smirking. “Were you cold last night?” he asked her in an offhanded manor. She was confused for a bit until she realized she had fallen back to sleep wrapped up in Lucius’ robe. Did he know she had wandered the manor last night?

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “I’m sorry.”

“No matter,” he turned his attention back to the paper. “Breakfast is on the table. When you’re through, Tinny will help you dress. After, I will take you on a tour of the manor.”

She stared at him in incomprehension. “Why are you not at work?” She was embarrassed when he looked at her appraisingly, his eyes wandering down her body. The robe was open, and her nightgown was not as modest as she would prefer.

“I felt it best I stay with you today, in light of yesterday’s events.” She flushed, pulling the robe more tightly around her. Begrudgingly, she accepted his reasoning.

Hermione ate the simple breakfast of fruit and oatmeal with more ravenousness than she had felt in weeks. “How am I expected to dress today?” she asked politely as she divested his robe to drape over the dining chair and sought out her own that was in the room somewhere – _ah. There._ She crossed to one of the chairs in front of the fireplace to pick up her soft robe, oblivious of the hungry eyes watching her every move.

“Casual is fine,” he answered, after clearing the thickness from his throat. It was obvious to him that that she was completely unaware of her attractiveness. Why did that make her all the more appealing?

“I would love to find some jeans in my wardrobe,” she teased with a small smile. “Any chance you could tell your manor you’d like to see me in them?” She laughed at his surprised expression. She felt so buoyant and light this morning. Yesterday had changed…everything.

Lucius swallowed hard, not so sure wearing curve hugging Muggle jeans was the way he wanted her prancing around the manor. He’d never be able to keep his hands off her – he’d had a weakness for the way jeans made a female’s bum look, ever since that first Rolling Stones concert. “That’s fine, but you will not dress in them regularly. Only if you know there will be no company, or if I send you to the stables to work. I recommend you do not wear them when Draco is around. And certainly, never in the dining room, Miss Granger. Jeans in the dining room would likely spur my mother’s portrait into action. Merlin help us if Willow Malfoy were to snap out of her blessed ten-year silence!”

She nodded her agreement, chuckling as he spoke about his mother. His tone had been light, almost teasing. Had he been fond of his mother? Looking for clarification, she asked “Okay for today?”

“For this morning. You will change before lunch,” Lucius instructed.

“Deal,” she practically danced across the room to the entrance of the mistress suite.

Thirty minutes later, Lucius Malfoy was silently cursing himself as he watched the girl in skin tight Muggle jeans and a lovely cashmere sweater walk ahead of him in the manor while he talked about points of interest. He became even more grouchy when she started discussing the architecture with him, asking specific, intelligent questions. Her intellect just made her all the more attractive to him. Most of the women he had spent time with in his life were a pretty face or skilled in the bedroom. None were particularly good at conversation. Yet, here she was…a Muggle-born. Someone who was supposed to be a thief of magic and inferior in every way. Lucius did not find her inferior, however, not in her intellect, not in her appearance, and certainly not in her magic.

After explaining that the third and fourth floors were mostly bedroom suites and storage and that he wasn’t going to tour her through them, they moved through the uninteresting parts of the second floor. He showed her a study that he was willing to let her to use, if she’d like, but purposefully skipped taking her into the drawing room she had been tortured in – twice. Once by his sadistic sister-in-law, the second time by his cruel son.

He started the main floor tour in the back of the house, wanting the lady’s parlor and rose garden to be last on his agenda. She seemed enchanted by the ballrooms. There were two. The first was used for more intimate affairs and was decorated in creams with gold brocade. There were three large windows that were set with window seats, and a huge crystal and gold chandelier in the middle of the ceiling that sat high above the diamond square parquet-patterned bamboo floors.

The other ballroom was used for gatherings of hundreds, in fact it could easily seat five hundred guests as it had for his and Narcissa’s wedding. There were seven floor-to-ceiling windows made of leaded stained glass. The windows were set apart by golden square pillars with brocade at the top and large rectangular mirrors on each side. Rich, mahogany paneling circled the room to chair rail height and was stained dark brown. Seven-inch tall base board circled the floor of the entire room and was stained one shade darker than the paneling. There were two large sets of French doors that were encased in more gold and brocade and elaborate detailing. What was truly splendid about this room, however, was the ceiling. Large rectangular expanses of complicatedly beautiful brocade separated with intricately painted beams. Ovals of ancient portraits were set into each rectangle and framed with more gold. Where each beam cross sectioned another, a simple, elegant candelabra hung. There were ten light fixtures in all. The floor was a deep, darkly stained oak board set in a herringbone pattern and buffed to slippery-smoothness.

He watched with barely concealed amusement as she walked into the middle of the Grand Ballroom, staring up at the paintings with undisguised wonder in her eyes. She did a twirl as she looked all around and took it all in. “This is beautiful,” she whispered. It sounded much louder as her voice echoed through the empty space.

“Yes,” Lucius answered. “It was my favorite room as a child. I’d sneak down here in my stocking feet and run as fast as I could before I would attempt to stop and skid along the floor.”

Hermione stared, mouth agape, at this beautifully regal and aristocratic man and tried to picture him as a small boy. “Show me,” she dared. His incredulous look made her laugh aloud.

“Heavens, no,” he sneered, adopting his usual cool and detached manner.

“I dare you!” she teased.

“What are you? Five?” he teased her back.

“No.” She brought herself up a little taller, squaring her shoulders. “Technically…I’ll be twenty soon.” Then she chortled. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun and be silly. In times like these, it’s all we have.”

He watched her carefully. The challenge was still in her eyes and he found himself wanting to answer it. What had it been? Almost thirty years since he held felt carefree enough to slide stocking-footed across the ballroom floor? Then he caught the eye of a portrait on the far wall. His father had been following them around all day. “Not today, Miss Granger,” he said in a cool tone. She didn’t miss his glance around the room, checking on other watching portraits. She immediately bowed her head, trying to show a submission she didn’t feel.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” she answered softly, knowing she was going to have to play her own part in keeping herself safe.

He looked slightly surprised while offering her his arm to lead her from the room before drawling up short, something she said registered suddenly in his brain.  
  
“Wait a moment,” Lucius’ head was reeling. “Did you just say you’ll be twenty, soon? Weren’t you in Draco’s year?”

Hermione gave him a mischievous little smirk. “I was,” she answered sweetly. “But my birthday is right away in September, I was the oldest in our class.”

Lucius did the math – that meant that she was born in 1979 instead of 1980…but to be twenty, she would have been born in 1978, which would have put her a year ahead of Draco. “The math still doesn’t add up, you should just be turning nineteen.”

The twinkle in her eye increased as did her secretive smile. “You promise not to tell Draco?”

“Sure,” he said crisply, glancing around the hallway as they walked.

“It was my third year,” she started. “You know, when we can take extra courses? I couldn’t decide which ones, so I applied for a time turner.”

“You were granted a time turner in your third year?” Lucius was shocked, and impressed. She must have been very mature for such a request to be approved.

“I was,” she smiled. “I…overused it a bit. I would use it to attend my classes, but I would also used it to study, and catch up on sleep. The boys thought I gave it up at the end of my third year, but I used it for fourth and fifth year, too. I was forced to give it back after the incident at the ministry, however, as it was the only working time turner left.” Here, she gave him a sidelong, accusatory look. “I had to drop two classes for my sixth year, which really sucked,” she sighed. “Anyway, by the end of fifth year, I had added three hundred and forty-two days to my life. The ministry agreed to round up and my birth certificate was magically amended. I turn twenty on the nineteenth of September.”

Lucius felt like the weight of a world had been removed from his shoulders with the news that she was older than he had thought. Why did one year make such a vast difference in his reasoning for his attraction and feelings for her?

“How…interesting,” he said, his voice a bit husky. He cleared his throat. “I think you’ll find this next room exciting. I had it magically renovated when we sent Draco to Hogwarts for his first year. It’s by far the most modern room in the house. I took a bedroom suite and two studies. Cissy argued with me about the bedroom suite, but there are just so many in this damned place. He pushed open a heavy wooden door and Hermione was instantly reminded of going to the local health center with her parents. The heavy smell of pool chemicals hit her like a wall, but then she saw the room and her jaw dropped.

The space was a huge rectangle, as large as the Grand Ballroom. The back wall, the longest, held floor to ceiling windows separated by alternating thin and thick pillars. The thick pillars were made of granite, the thin pillars looked like some kind of hardwood. When she looked closer, the pattern actually went thin wooden pillar, large window, thin wooden pillar, thick granite pillar, thin wooden pillar, large window, and then it repeated. The view was…spectacular. It was like looking into the Forbidden Forest, only the trees were younger.

Hermione realized this must be the very back of the house, she had only seen the view facing the front of the house and the rolling grounds. Butting directly up against the windows was an infinity pool. The basin of the pool was done in green marble and edged with the same dark granite as the pillars. Surrounding the pool on three sides were rough grained hardwood floors that reminded her of a ship deck. On the far left sat a sofa with end tables and a round dining table that looked to seat about eight. The other side held a small fire place, in front of which was an eight-person hot tub sunk into the wooden pool deck. There were three steps leading into tub with marble benches the same color as the pool basin to sit on. A door flanked each side of the fire place. There were six chaise lounges in three sets of two with end tables between each pair. They sat on the part of the pool deck that directly faced the pool and windows. There were sconces on each pillar as well as three medium crystal chandeliers hanging from what appeared to be a granite ceiling. 

She turned huge eyes to Lucius, who looked insanely smug with her reaction. “This is…incredible,” she murmured. Lucius smirked knowingly.

It was quiet as she explored the room. After a few minutes, he quietly asked. “Do you swim, Hermione?”

She looked up in surprise at the use of her first name. He used it so rarely, usually calling her Miss Granger. He noticed her reaction. “This is a safe room – the humidity and potions to keep the pool water clean and clear make it a hostile environment for portraits. You may talk freely.”

“I do swim, Lucius.” She purposely used his first name, liking the power that it gave her. It put them on the same footing – instead of one of captive and captor, or older and younger. “This is unbelievable…” She looked around again. “Do you use it often?”

“I wish I used it more often,” he admitted. “Do you wish to be able to use it?”

Her eyes found their way back to his. “I’d like that very much,” she confessed. “It would be nice to have a way to keep myself physically fit. All this rich food you’re feeding me will be a problem once my appetite returns to normal.”

“What’s been wrong with your appetite?” Lucius was confused. She seemed to eat as much as any woman he’d ever known. Not really enough, in his opinion, but he had long ago learned to not mention eating habits to a woman if he wanted to keep his bollocks. 

“Well, there’s the fact that I lived off bread, some sort of porridge, and water for almost two months. Then there’s been stress…and depression.” Her admission was reluctant, but she pressed on. “I have a very healthy appetite,” she shrugged. “I like food!” A chuckle escaped her this time. “If I don’t have a way to work it off, I’ll have to ask you to change the menus!”

He gave her a small smile, he understood. He knew Draco used his private workout room daily. He, himself, ran the grounds and rode horseback numerous times per week. He also very much enjoyed swimming – hence the massive expense of an indoor pool.

“What’s through the door ways?” she questioned, pointing towards the hearth.

“A sauna to the left and a bathroom to the right,” he informed her. “We should move on.”

She looked longingly at the pool again before turning to follow him. “I have two rooms left – I believe they will be your favorite.”

Lucius wasn’t wrong. When he gestured for her to open the next set of double doors and precede him, she had never imagined what she would see.

The Library was huge and went up two stories. The ceiling was cathedral in its making, painted in such a way it reminded her of the Sistine Chapel. There were huge world globes filling the center of the expanse with a few nooks that held desks and lamps. Bookcases were separated with large, carved spiral columns, their bases blocked and intricately designed. The bookcases and walls were wooden and stained with warm, comforting tones of brown. The balcony was scalloped and ran the edges of the entire room. It was blocked off with an ornate iron barricade. The floors were stone with alternating square and diamond patters in a creamy gold and a dark brown.

Her face was frozen in a mask of wonder. Lucius couldn’t help staring at her perfect O-shaped mouth hungrily as she took in the space. Her expression was that of orgasmic bliss.

“Do you think you’ll be able to find some reading material to your tastes in here, Miss Granger?” he teased with a snigger.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, not even caring that the question was most likely rhetorical. She stepped to the nearest bookcase, running her fingers over the spines of ancient texts and tomes.

Lucius watched her with utter fascination as she moved through the library, at one point looking up as she walked backwards. Her eyes were positively glowing with hunger – for knowledge. He had only ever seen that look in a woman’s eyes when it came to pretty baubles or jewels, but the girl was looking at books – not diamonds. It was captivating.

He let her wander a few minutes before calling an end to explorations. “We must move on, Miss Granger. One room left and then you shall go dress for lunch.”

She followed him reluctantly, two books in hand. “Is it all right if I take these with?”

He glanced at the titles before raising his eyebrows. _Decoding B’alaj Chan K’awiil – Ancient Mayan Rulers_ and _Potions, Herbs, Oils, and Brews_. This was her idea of reading for fun? “I do suppose that will be fine. Just so you are aware, the room is enchanted. When you are done with a book, you simply put them there,” he pointed to one of the small nooks that held a basket on a rectangular table, “and it will reshelf itself.”

“Outstanding.” Hermione took note before moving to tuck the books under her arm.

“I’ll carry those for you,” he offered, holding a hand out. She cocked her head at him in surprise. That was awfully…chivalrous.

Lucius had been taught not to let women carry objects that could burden their gracefulness, of course. However, he had also been taught that, as the Lord of the manor, he shouldn’t be burdened with such a mundane task, either. Normally, he would call for a house elf, but something was compelling him to take and keep her burden.

A few minutes later, they entered the foyer, and Hermione’s heart started to thud loudly in her ears when she realized Lucius was leading her to the piano room. She took a deep breath and followed him into the chamber.

It was very different in the day time. The room was incredibly bright and airy – so different from the rest of the manor, which was dark and masculine. The walls and trim work were all done in white. The ceiling was vaulted and sectioned into squares with beams, and was also completely white. There were large, floor to ceiling windows at the back of the room and what looked like a door that led out into a garden. The tapestries were all cream and gold and were thick and heavy. There were two gold and cream patterned davenports full of huge, fluffy throw pillows done in bronzes, golds, and mustards. Two small, bergère style chairs flanked the moderately sized fireplace, the pillars that held up the mantel were carved cherubs. The center of the room was covered with a large oriental rug done mostly in creams with mustard and crimson accents. In the center of the rug was a large, upholstered coffee table done in gold with a large potted plant in on its middle and a few small vases circling it. End tables sat on the ends of each couch and held carved candelabras and a few (probably priceless) knickknacks. A few other plants in huge, beautiful crocks were placed in the room, giving it a homey feel. 

Nearest to the entrance, though, sat the piano where Hermione had lost herself the night before and the breath whooshed out of her completely. It was so beautiful.

“Do you play?” Lucius asked softly, watching her face adamantly.

Hermione’s mind raced as she looked at the portraits lining the wall. Would they give her away if she lied? She didn’t know why, but for some reason she wanted to keep her talent to herself. She wanted to hold onto the secret a little longer. It was the only thing she had that was hers alone. Selfishly, she wanted to guard it.

“A little,” she whispered. “Not well enough to play for anyone.”

Lucius was just barely able to stop the surprise from showing on his face with her hesitant answer. She was lying – she had never outright lied to him before. Now he knew why, she was terrible at it. Her eyes were darting around the room and she was avoiding looking at the piano. _Why would she lie about being able to play the piano?_ He glanced around the room at the portraits who were whispering quietly to each other. He needed to answer her.

“Ah.” He felt oddly hurt that she had decided not to share her talent willingly with him. “That is too bad, this is a lovely instrument. La Mort du Cygne – or The Dying Swan. It’s a baby grand piano that is made of solid, hand carved mahogany with a fruitwood veneer inlay. It was customized and built in 1906 and is an Erard. Are you familiar with Erard pianos, Miss Granger?”

Hermione’s eyes were once again fixed to the magnificent instrument. She had heard rumors of this piano, it had been lost in a fire in Germany in 1916. Apparently, it had really just been coveted by a Malfoy. “Does it do anything magical?” she asked.

“Not unless you count the fact that it will never play out of tune no matter how many years pass.” Lucius shrugged. They were quiet a few more moments before Lucius let his guard down just a bit. “It was my mother’s piano, Miss Granger. Purchased for her when she was born and betrothed to my father.” He cleared his throat and continued in a more flippant matter. “I would like for you to make this room yours, Miss Granger. It is the Lady’s Parlor – it’s seems only right that the only female in the house utilizes the space. The French doors over there,” he pointed to the floor to ceiling windows at the back of the room, “lead to the rose garden. You will be allowed out there unsupervised. It has been warded to keep you confined to that garden space. If you wish to walk the grounds, you must ask either Draco or me to escort you.” When she shot him a withering look, he smirked at her. “I’ll add Tinny to that list, as well, being that I am at work most of the week.”

She nodded her understanding, and he watched as she ran her hands over the detailed inlay of the Erard. “If I were to choose to practice my piano playing, Mr. Malfoy, would that be all right?”

He studied her hard for a long minute before answering. “I would be delighted for you to play the piano, Miss Granger. No one has played it in over twenty years. It deserves some attention,” he glanced at the portraits and caught the eyes of his mother. He had not spoken with her portrait in a long time, she gave him a soft smile. Lucius tore his gaze away from her and placed it back on the girl.

“And now, Miss Granger, it is time for lunch.” He motioned for her to take his arm. “I’ll escort you to your rooms, so you may change.”

* * *

Lunch was served with the usual savoir faire. Hermione had been dressed in a simple day dress in a deep, royal blue that made her creamy skin look utterly delectable. He had to admit that he missed the jeans, they fit her personality much better. Their discussion remained light, mostly discussing the manor and all in it from her extensive tour.

There were no awkward pauses, the few silences had been filled with the need to chew and swallow and then conversation would start right up again. She was refreshingly witty, and so bright. Lucius felt a warmth in his person like he had never experience before, especially when her smile touched her eyes. At one point, she was passionately discussing the design of the balcony in the library, and she reached out to take hold of his wrist while she talked animatedly and gestured with her other hand. He was so stunned by her casual touch that he couldn’t help but stare at it, his lips slightly parted with his surprise. When she realized why he had gone still and quiet, a striking blush filled her cheeks and she quickly let him go. He chose not to say anything about it, and began telling her about the architect that had designed the library that had been remodeled when his father was a boy.

That was when everything had changed. The French doors Draco had slammed through only yesterday were thrown open again, startling them both. However, when Voldemort glided through them, all the happiness was sucked out of the room. Hermione let out a small gasp and sunk back into her chair, her head going down.

The smile on Lucius’ face fell instantly into a mask of indifference when he saw Voldemort. His heart started to pound. _What did he hear? Did he hear her happiness? Did he hear my humor?_

“Ahh, Lucius, don’t get up!” Voldemort glided into the room with an air of superiority, a fake smile on his face.

Lucius stood anyway, bowing his head, knowing full well his master didn’t truly mean his words. “My Lord, had I known you were coming, a proper lunch would have been prepared.” Lucius didn’t even chance a glance at Hermione, there was no need for visual confirmation of her fear.

Voldemort waved his hand with false nonchalance. “Nonsense. I do not wish to impose. I merely wish to speak with you for a few moments.” Voldemort was scanning the room, seemingly taking in the portraits. Lucius didn’t miss the subtle greeting between his master and his father. Abraxas’ expression was even haughtier than usual.

Lucius moved away from the table and swiftly approached the madman he secretly despised. He fell to one knee, focusing on the ground between them. “I am at your disposal, my Lord.”

“Well, in that case, perhaps a moment in your study would be nice.” Voldemort did not look at Lucius or acknowledge his subservient gesture.

Lucius stood and motioned towards the door on the far side of the room. “Of course.”  Voldemort glided gracefully towards the study room door with Lucius following close behind.

As soon as they were inside, Voldemort closed the door with a flick of his hand. Lucius knew at that moment his Lord and Master was fully aware of Hermione’s ability. The show of wandless magic had been by design, Lucius was sure of it. Closing a door was beneath the Dark Lord, he did not bother with such simple tasks. There were house elves and lowly wizards to perform such things. Lowly wizards, such as himself.

“Draco came to visit me yesterday,” the Dark Lord commented. His voice was casual, as though he were making light conversation, but Lucius knew better.

“Yes, my Lord. He told me you had a task for him that would require his absence for an unspecified amount of time.” He bowed his head deferentially. “I hope he does not disappoint.”

The megalomaniac sat in the chair closest to the fire, as he always did. Lucius noticed he was wearing heavy woolen robes that practically swallowed his frame. He was always cold, and Lucius wondered if his transition to a serpent-like being was still progressing.  Voldemort looked from the fire back to Lucius. “No, I don’t suspect he’ll disappoint. Not this time.”

Lucius wondered what that statement meant and tried to disguise his interest. He kept his face a non-expressive mask, allowing the abomination sitting in front of him to lead the conversation.

“Draco told me of the Mudblood’s display on Saturday. Although, Abraxas was actually the first to disclose the story.” Voldemort cut Lucius with a penetrating gaze. “I’m surprised _you_ didn’t find the information worthy of bringing to me.”

Lucius opened his mouth to defend his absence, but Voldemort waved him off dismissively. “It’s no matter. I always find out, as you know.”

Voldemort stood and walked over to the fire, sliding the iron poker off the fireplace accessory stand to adjust the burning logs. Lucius tried to conceal his panic as some embers began to fall and crackle. He swallowed heavily, and his heart began to pound as the Dark Lord continued to hold the weapon in the flames. It was hardly a subtle threat. When the fire roared back to life, Voldemort put the poker back in its rack. Lucius allowed himself a silent breath of relief, knowing it could all turn on a knut.

Voldemort brought his attention back to Lucius. “The girl is to remain safe. This…ability of hers. It makes her…appealing, more...worthy. Only if we can use her to our will, however. You and Draco must secure her unfailing loyalty. Whether you use roses or thorns matters not to me.” Suddenly, Voldemort’s look was piercing, and his voice turned hostile. “Bring her to heel Lucius!”

Lucius internally cringed at the degrading command. It would not have bothered him mere days ago…but now it disturbed him. _Oh, what has this girl done to me?_

“My Lord, yesterday, the Mudblood…she tried to take her own life…” Lucius hated to admit this, but he knew it would be a grave error to try to keep it hidden.

Before Lucius could continue, Voldemort turned a penetrating and threatening glare on him that caused Lucius to stop speaking instantly. His Master’s tone was soft and quiet, making his threat all the deadlier. “If any _permanent_ harm should befall even one hair on her head, there will be consequences, Lucius. Consequences you have not imagined in that… _secretive_ mind of yours.”

Once again, his master was scolding him for not coming forward with Hermione’s wandless display. Lucius realized he was losing the trust of the Dark Lord, and that was akin to death in the world of a Death Eater. He knew he would have to be more forthcoming in the future.

Lucius remained kneeling as Voldemort glided by and exited the room without another word or glance thrown his way. The door was opened, once again, with a display of wandless magic. When the door closed, Lucius let out a shaky breath. He continued to draw in lungsful of air as the panic slowly ebbed out of him. To say he was relieved to have survived another encounter unscathed would be a gross understatement. This one had been close. His thoughts went to Hermione and his eyes moved to the door when he realized she was alone with the monster.

Hermione was frozen to her chair. She considered leaving for her room or the Lady’s Parlor or the Library, but felt it would be in her and Lucius’ best interest if she stayed put. She could hear the soft mumble of voices, but could not make out any words. The longer she waited the more her panic began to build. _Are they talking about me?  Discussing my death?_ Yesterday she had been so desperate to end it all, but that was _then_. It was before there was a piano and a library…and a man who completely confounded her.

After about ten minutes, the door opened. Hermione felt dread when Lucius wasn’t the one approaching her. She swallowed heavily and stared at the plate in front of her, not daring to make eye contact. She may have stood up to this…creature…the last time she saw him, but she had no desire for another trip down Cruciatus lane.

He approached the opposite side of the table and tilted his head, sighing gently as he watched her. “Miss Granger, I have taken a great interest in your well-being. It is why you are living in the plush comforts of this Manor and not in a cell amongst sewage and rats. Please take care of yourself. Your life is _far_ too valuable to be wasted.”

His voice was surprisingly soft and while it seemed he was trying to offer kindness, it was almost laughable. His false sincerity was … disturbing. “You are a smart girl, and – for a Mudblood – you have _surprising_ magical talent. You are not something to be destroyed. Quite the opposite, in fact. You seem to be an enigma, an _exception_ to the rule. You are something to be valued.

When he stopped talking, Hermione felt compelled to look up at him. She held her tongue and didn’t respond with the vitriol that was boiling inside her _. I am not a_ something ** _,_** _I am a_ witch _and a_ human being _. Which is more than I can say for you, you freak._ However, in the interest of her own well-being (and frankly for the safety of her keeper as well), Hermione decided it was best she pretend to play nice in the sandbox. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The smile Voldemort gave her was perhaps the creepiest thing she had ever seen. _Honestly, does this man ever look in a mirror?_ After a pause he continued, “Well, I’ll leave you to your afternoon, Miss Granger.” Hermione watched as he left, his robes disappearing through the door that lead to the floo.

When she heard the _whoosh_ of the fireplace, Hermione felt her body go boneless as she started to tremble violently, and tears pooled in her eyes without her permission. So lost in her relief that that monster was gone, she didn’t realize Lucius had returned until he settled a warm hand on her shoulder, making her jump slightly.

“Come,” he commanded. Hermione quickly rose and followed him out of the dining room. Once in the hall, he took her in his arms. With a spin and a _crack_ , they were in the stables. He didn’t let her go, only pulled her into his chest more tightly. The kindness of the gesture was enough that the tears spilled down her face freely as she drew a shuddering breath.

“Shh,” he said soothingly, his hold on her remaining tight. Because of how they were positioned, Hermione didn’t see the pallor of his face, which was as white as hers. Nor did she see the tight press of his lips or the fear in his eyes.

“Do you know what he wants of me?” she asked brokenly after a few minutes. Grudgingly, now that he’d had time to compose himself, Lucius let her go. She pulled back from him, wrapping her arms around her torso protectively.

“The only thing he has made clear is that you are to be kept alive and brought to see his side of things,” Lucius said softly, not looking at her.

“You know that I will never bow to him, Lucius, right? I would rather die first.” The venom in which she spat the words sent a shiver through Lucius. Her passion was catching, and his eyes snapped to hers to find her fierce determination.

“Then you will pretend,” he said arrogantly. “You will pretend, and you will lie. You’ll have to work on it, though. You’re a terrible liar.”

“Why are you so determined to help me?” The silence was deafening.

“I don’t know,” he answered finally.

“Can you teach me Occlumency?” she requested.

“I can try.” It was a smart question – it could keep them all alive if she could learn to lie and shield her thoughts. “Hermione?” She met and held his gaze. “You will have to submit – or Draco and I are dead right along with you.”

Caramel eyes held grey until she gave a curt nod. “I’ll do it for you – not for Draco.”

Lucius’ heart jumped at her words, and he found it difficult to swallow. “Fair enough, Miss Granger,” he finally responded after a few moments of silence. “Fair enough.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Inspiration for the rooms of the manor were drawn from the following –**
> 
>  
> 
> **Grand Ballroom:**  
>  https://806d2bf04cf5fa54997a-e7c5344b3b84eec5da7b51276407b19c.ssl.cf1.rackcdn.com/responsive/1536/a3a80601ed9c61c5137a-e7c5344b3b84eec5da7b51276407b19c.r92.cf1.rackcdn.com/responsive/16:9/a3a80601ed9c61c5137a-e7c5344b3b84eec5da7b51276407b19c.r92.cf1.rackcdn.com/u/hotel-cafe-royal/events/Hotel-Cafe-Royal---Pompadour---Empty.jpg
> 
> **Intimate Ballroom:** https://shop.kongernessamling.dk/content/uploads/2016/08/Taffelsal-Chr7.jpg
> 
> **Library:**  
>  http://camtenna.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/home-office-home-office-library-design-ideas-modern-home-ideas-elegant-home-office-library-design-ideas.jpg
> 
> **Pool:**  
>  https://blog.klm.com/assets/uploads/2015/09/Four-Seasons_china.png
> 
> **La Mort du Cygne, Erard – “The Dying Swan” worth $409,000:**  
>  https://media.izi.travel/a8a0e958-59de-4a08-b96c-dfe8d01d3b8e/bf4cfa87-866f-4e16-963d-f2ecd6e8f60e_800x600.jpg
> 
> https://artmiens.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/piano.jpg


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**A big thanks to all who comment! Thanks to LissaDream for being such a brilliant co-writer and an even better friend! Love you :***

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Tuesday evening, Lucius lay in bed, reflecting over the last couple days. Since Draco left on Sunday, with the exception of the Dark Lord's visit, Lucius had noticed a huge improvement in Hermione's demeanor. Lucius had returned to work today, so he had not been able to watch over her activities as he had the day before. However, Narcissa informed him the girl had spent most of today in the parlor, and because of it, the lady's parlor had never been so popular. Visitors from portraits all over the manor were popping in to hear the Mudblood who could play the piano. He was still waiting for the girl to admit her talent, but she had said nothing. Hermione had not mentioned anything during dinner about her time in the parlor and Lucius didn't want to bring it up, for fear she would think he was having Narcissa spy on her. He decided he might simply ask her to play something for him.

Lucius could feel the bond for the first time. He had not taken her since Sunday morning and the pull was starting to make him feel uneasy. Snape had warned him of this side effect. The need would continue to build and over time he would feel more anxious, and if he waited too long, his heart would start to pound. Apparently, this was a diluted version of what the captives felt on a day to basis, and he didn't like it. It was simply a mild uneasiness that had started around lunch time, but was slowly building. He would not delay much longer. He had wanted her to have a little reprieve while she was recovering from her emotional break down, but he was not keen to torture himself. Besides, he wanted her. He had been courteous and exercised restraint long enough. It was his right after all. She was his captive after all. _Then why do you feel so guilty?_

The pull of the bond woke Lucius in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. He tossed and turned for a bit, wanting to let her sleep for a while and wanting to rest more himself. Laying on his left side, he watched her as he willed sleep to overcome him again. His focus was drawn to her mouth when her soft, full lips parted with a shaky indrawn breath. Her eyes were moving behind her fluttering lashes and Lucius knew she was dreaming. His breathing paused when a faint whispered word fell from her lips, "Please." A second later, more words. "No, Harry, this way." Her words were slurred with sleep, but were becoming slightly louder. Her forehead was furrowed with worry and her breathing was accelerating. "No Harry! Ron, stop him!" Her voice became clearer and her small hand that was curled under her cheek began to twitch. "Harry, Ron…Nooooo!"

Suddenly her eyes shot open, but Lucius could tell she wasn't seeing by her glazed over expression.

He whispered, "It's all right, Hermione. You were dreaming."

He watched as consciousness crept over her face and her eyes began to focus. She moved her head back with a quick jerk and her body flinched when she found him so close and watching her. She quickly relaxed as she remembered where she was.

He watched her, and she watched him. Their eyes were on each other, but neither saying anything.

"Do you have nightmares often?" he murmured.

"I don't know," she replied. Her whisper was anguished, as though she were on the verge of tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She swallowed. "Not really. It's a memory…a memory that I recall daily…multiple times throughout the day."

Lucius froze when Hermione slid closer to him, so that her face was curled into his chest. "Is this ok?" She asked her voice barely above a whisper.

After a stunned pause, he awkwardly patted her back. "It's fine." Within seconds her breathing was even from sleep. It felt so strange, this young woman – his captive – seeking comfort from him. It had been such a long time since he had held someone this way. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him or sought any type of comfort from him. Not since Draco was a child, and that was only when his mother was not around. Narcissa touched him, certainly, but it was never like this. At least not for more years than he could remember. In truth, he had never encouraged it. Even his lovers over the years had been for physical release only. There had never been…tenderness.

He exhaled and closed his eyes, finding he didn't mind her face nestled into his chest. Nor did he mind when her hand curled up under her chin and felt cool against his overheated skin. Exhaustion began to claim him as her steady breathing washed over him.

* * *

Hair. Thick, unruly, soft, and fragrant. Across his cheeks, on his shoulders, cascading down his arms, his stomach.

Legs. One…thrown over his right thigh. The second…nestled between his own.

Arms. One…wrapped around his waist, holding him close. The second…resting on his left bicep.

Eyes, closed. Lips, soft and inviting. Cheeks, flushed.

This was what Lucius awoke to. He was completely enveloped by a sound asleep girl. She was draped across him and her leg that was over his thigh twitched slightly, causing a certain part of his anatomy to twitch as well. Her right cheek was nestled into his chest.

Lucius was equally surprised to find his right hand was splayed across her lower back and his other was cradling the back of her head, his fingers buried in her soft locks.

He didn't move, he merely pondered _… How? How did we become so completely entwined?_

He was warm, hot. He needed to move. As he straightened his leg clad thigh and pulled his hands away from her warmth, a desperate mewl escaped her lips. A warm breath blew across his chest. A soft moan followed as she began to stretch, rubbing up against him. _Merlin_.

He froze, fighting the impulse to simply take her…but he did not want to force her. He whispered. "Hermione, Princess, wake up."

"Mmm," was the only response he got.

And then a wiggle.

That was it. How much could a man take after all? He would have her.

Then she tensed. He realized his command must have kicked in the bond because she suddenly stilled, her head came up and her sleepy eyes met his.

She looked around and down, comprehending she had become a human blanket. She blushed as she rolled off him, to his right and onto her back. "Sorry," she whispered.

"It's quite alright,' he responded, his voice husky with need. He swallowed heavily.

After a moment, she whispered again. "It's ok. I know what you have to do."

And, oh he wanted to. Why did he feel guilty, though? He felt this tug of war in his mind. One side valiant and protective…wanting to simply take care of her. The other side, however, wanted to take her.

Hard.

Now.

Repeatedly.

It was the bond that gave him no choice. "Yes," he whispered. "It's time, but..."

Hermione sensed his hesitation and turned to him, seeing the concern in his eyes. "But?" she asked gently.

He glanced at the portraits and was thankful to find Abraxas gone. The others were sleeping. He swallowed. "I find myself feeling… guilty. I don't wish to cause you more…unrest, but this blasted bond is making me anxious. It will only get worse the longer we wait."

Lucius wasn't looking at her. He kept his eyes on the ceiling letting out short, calming exhalations, willing the pull to let up a bit. The controlled breathing was not helping. Her soft body next to him was definitely not helping. On top of that, her beautiful, caramel eyes boring into him with concern and understanding was making him feel sick with self-loathing. _Merlin, just take her! What is wrong with you? You are Lucius Malfoy!_

Just as he was about to make his move, she spoke. Her voice was soft and sympathetic, and it softened his resolve. "So, the bond, it affects you too?" She let out sigh. Her voice was small and resigned. "That means he'll be back…soon."

Lucius knew who 'he' was. Not wanting to discuss Draco, and frustrated by his lack of control over the situation, he replied with a touch of impatience. "I'm sorry. There just isn't much I can do about that. You are every bit as bound to him as to you are to me."

She couldn't contain the snap of bitterness. "Yes, I am perfectly aware, thank you."

Lucius understood her frustration, but he was currently more concerned with his own. Neither one said anything. As the silence dragged on he felt guiltier. He spoke softly, a pleading edge to his voice that matched his words. "Look, Hermione. I don't like…forcing you. We have been…good together…and I know it was at my command, but…well. We respond well together; do you think that we might find mutual enjoyment in this arrangement?"

Hermione didn't respond, and he thought she was shutting him out, distancing herself from him. He couldn't blame her. It was unfair of him to ask her to enjoy sleeping with someone she didn't really want to be with. It was an absurd request, but then her words surprised him. Her tone was shy and hesitant. "When...when you are gentle, and kind, it's...I can pretend I want it. A couple of times, it was…almost nice."

Lucius noticed her glance around the room, focusing on the portraits and their occupants. He appreciated her caution when her whispered confession rattled the walls around his heart, once again. "Lucius, I just want to say that, well…I appreciate the kindness you have shown me. It's certainly not required of you and this could all be…so much worse." She paused and when he didn't stop her, she continued, "That first night, I thought you were a monster...I thought…"

Lucius turned to her abruptly, stunned by his own confession and the urgency with which he whispered it. "Hermione, that first night we were being watched. I behaved the way I was expected to act…and frankly, I didn't know you. I didn't…care about you. I was playing a part and doing my job." He looked back at the ceiling. After a short pause he added, "It would be…difficult to behave in such a way towards you now." He looked back at her. "I hope you understand that."

There was a brief pause where neither of them moved or spoke. Hermione tentatively moved her left hand over his right, looking back at the ceiling once again.

Lucius closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. When her hand touched his, he felt a flood of relief. It was such a simple gesture on her part, yet it was a gesture that changed everything. He rolled onto his side facing her and she followed suit, rolling to face him. He kept his eyes on hers as he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Her expression conveyed she was nervous, but he didn't see fear and he didn't see panic. His heart was starting to beat faster, only this time it wasn't from the bond. "Slip your gown off," he whispered, immediately tacking a "please" on the end as he gave her an apologetic smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes but had a small smile on her face as she lifted the gown over her head.

His eyes ghosted down as her breasts became exposed. Her nipples were hard and her skin inviting. Her body below her waist was still under the covers and he was about to reach for her and pull her close when she moved.

Lucius was stunned when she lifted her hand to his chest. "Perhaps you could undress as well." Her voice was soft and shy, but her eyes were on his and had a twinkle. He couldn't help the small smile that crept over his mouth.

"With pleasure," he responded as he pulled his night shirt off and then slid his pajama bottoms down. He turned back to her. "Do you have any other requests?"

Her eyes breezed down his chest and back up. She grinned, "Well, you could give me a wand and a portkey to Paris."

He returned her smile. "Somehow, I don't think that would help my current predicament."

She shrugged. "Ah well, you asked."

"You are quite stunning when you smile," he said softly. The smile fell from her face as a flush crept over her. Her eyes were on his and her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth. "And you're irresistible when you blush," he added for good measure.

"Hmmm, you know flattery will get you nowhere you haven't already been."

He chuckled. "You are quite cheeky this morning."

Her smile turned a little sad. "I want to be happy."

His words were sincere. "I want you to be happy, Hermione. As happy as you can be."

"Well, that's the caveat isn't it? There's a limit."

Lucius closed his eyes and opened them. "You aren't the only one who feels that way. But we have to make the best of the situation, don't we?"

Hermione sighed heavily. Her eyes were on his as she announced with quiet conviction, "Yes, and that's why I've decided to find happiness where I can, and to accept what I can't change and to stop fighting battles I can't win."

Lucius paused, torn between what he wanted to say to her and what he wanted to do to her. His eyes trailed down her body and quickly decided action would win this battle. They could talk later about not losing her will to fight.

"How about you let me try to make you happy right now?"

"I believe that's why we are both naked," she replied with a cocked eyebrow.

Lucius chuckled as he reached forward and snaked an arm around her small waist, sliding her towards him easily. "I like this playful side of you." He ghosted his mouth up her neck and planted a soft kiss behind her right ear.

He pulled her closer when he felt her arms tentatively creep around his neck. When she nuzzled into his neck he let out a soft growl as his left hand lightly trailed down her back and over the soft skin of her bottom.

His left hand glossed to her right hip and his right moved to her left. She let out a squeal when he rolled her onto her back and shifted himself over her. "I will endeavor to make no commands, princess. If I forget, tell me."

Her soft brown eyes met his grey and after a moment, he couldn't help himself. He leaned in and kissed her gently. He felt her tense, her lips stiff and unyielding, and was about to pull back when suddenly her mouth relaxed. Lucius felt like purring when her hands lightly moved to the back of his head, threading softly through his locks and tentatively holding him close.

He trailed his tongue along her bottom lip, contemplating deepening the kiss, but instead found himself peppering her with light kisses down her neck, her chest and to her breasts. Her breasts were perfect in every way…soft, with pale rose nipples, and a perfect size. Not too voluminous and not too small. The perfect amount for his hand. His left hand moved to her right breast where he gently massaged the soft globe before lightly pinching her nipple, causing a delightful mewl to escape her mouth, an arching of her back and further hardening of both peaks.

His mouth latched on to her left breast where he kissed her tenderly before lightly moving the tip of his tongue over and around the ridges of her erect nipple. When she wiggled beneath him – clearly aroused – he teased, "Ah, ah, ah…if you move I'll have to give a command."

She let out a sigh and moved her hands to his shoulders. The feel of her hands moving down his arms and around to his back felt exquisite. Her movements were tentative, but he appreciated her initiative in exploring the planes and grooves of his shoulders, back, and arms. It had been a long time since he had been touched like this. Sex with Narcissa had become quite scripted and repetitive over the years. There was little caressing. He had not had a proper mistress in many years and the one-night encounters of his most recent years had been for release only…quickies where he took a more dominant role by taking the women fast and hard. He liked rough sex, but with Hermione, he felt a desire to nurture and take his time.

He moved his mouth to her stomach and then further down to her pubis, pleased to find a small, trimmed strip of curls. He liked women shaved bare, but not when they were only nineteen-years-old. He needed no more reminders she was a girl and barely a woman. His hands continued to massage her breasts as his mouth slid down her core. His tongue gently slid past her outer lips to the inner. Her sweet, musky scent was delicious, and he had to fight the urge to slide back up her body so that he could sink into her and fuck her hard.

He smiled and nibbled when she bucked her hips as he flicked her clit with his tongue. He pinched her nipples and smirked to himself when she quickly arched her back once again. He was already playing her like a well-known instrument.

"Do you like my mouth on you, Princess?" he asked softly with a touch of cockiness. He peeked up to find her eyes heavily lidded as they met his before letting her head fall back. Her mouth was in the shape of a soft 'o' and she let out a moan when he nibbled on her hard bud one more time. "I asked you a question. Don't you think it would be polite to answer?"

Her head was still tossed back, and she lifted it, cocking an eyebrow as she looked down at him. "I'm trying to decide. Keep going and I'll let you know."

He chuckled, enjoying her teasing response. He moved his hands from her breasts to her thighs, spreading her wide open. He moved his tongue with more pressure, this time starting lower, lightly trailing his tongue on her puckered rear entrance. He instantly regretted it when she tensed and tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight on her thighs for her to go anywhere. He pulled back and looked up, she looked panicked. "Please…not there."

"It's okay, princess. This is about pleasure, remember? I won't hurt you." He gave her a couple soft kisses on her inner thighs and was relieved when she slowly relaxed beneath him. Her head fell back on the pillow when he moved his mouth back to her pleasure point. He worked her mercilessly and, after a couple minutes, she was writhing beneath him. He could only assume she was near climax. He slid one and then two fingers into her warm, slick channel and when he curled his long fingers, pressing then into the spongy tissue he knew drove witches wild, he bit down gently on her clit, causing her to squeal spectacularly. Her walls clamped on his fingers and a small amount of liquid gushed around them with her release.

She was panting, heavily, clearly trying to regain her breath. He slowly moved back up her body, kissing his way up her stomach and back to her breasts. He moved further up and kissed her cheek. His cock was so hard that it was painful. When he slid into her it felt like she was made for him. Sex with her had been good, but this morning it was spectacular. Hermione being a willing participant made all the difference in the world. She moaned, and her legs automatically wrapped around his lower back. Her hips began to rock with his of their own accord and her hands gripped his biceps fiercely.

He was towering over her and when he looked down at her, her eyes locked with his. "Are you okay?" He asked as he continued to rock his hips against hers.

She nodded and tentatively pressed up and kissed his mouth. He returned her tender gesture and nibbled her lower lip, eliciting softs moans that pushed him over the edge. One, two, three more thrusts and then he tensed letting out a growl as he came.

When he caught his breath, he looked down at her, surprised to find her expression slightly disappointed. "What is it, princess. Did I hurt you?"

"No…no. It's just..."

When she hesitated, he became impatient. "Tell me."

She looked up at him, crossly. "I thought you weren't going to make commands."

"Well, when you don't answer my question, and I need an answer, you leave me no choice."

Unable to resist the bond, the answer spilled out of her lips before he even finished speaking. "I was about to come when you…when you stopped."

 _What? "_ You mean just now? While I was…penetrating you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, while you were…just now."

Lucius was stunned. He didn't say anything and after a minute a huge smile crossed his face. "Hmmm, it seems, my dear, you and I are more compatible than I realized. I've never made a woman orgasm from penetration." He rolled off her, stunned.

Hermione looked at him with confusion. "I don't understand."

Lucius sighed and ran his hands over his face and then through his hair. "What I mean is, I've only ever given an orgasm through clitoral stimulation or with penetration of my fingers. I've never accomplished that feat…during intercourse."

He suddenly felt a tinge of embarrassment. _Why did you just admit that?_

Hermione cocked an eyebrow once again. "Well, it's not the first time you did this to me. Perhaps the other women were close as well, but it just…"

Lucius turned to her, smiling. "I did this to you before?"

"Yes, and it's rather frustrating if you must know."

Lucius chuckled. "Oh, my little princess, you are simply full of surprises." He leaned over her again, and ran his left hand down her body and between her legs. "Allow me to remedy that deficiency promptly."

* * *

Hermione let the hot water run over her. As she stood under the powerful spray, her eyes were closed and she put her hands over them to protect them. It had been a…nice morning. Unexpected. She had meant what she said to Lucius. She really did want to try and make the best of her situation. Truthfully, she was slowly coming around to Lucius Malfoy, but admitting this (even to herself) made her uncomfortable. The man was a long-standing Death Eater. He was not a good man. He was not a noble man. He was a rapist, an opportunist, and likely a murderer, as well. He had crucio'd her mere days earlier.

However, he was also kind, and attentive, and considerate and (it pained her to admit this), she enjoyed sex with him. At least this morning she did.

He simply wasn't panning out to be what she thought he was. The more she got to know him, the more she realized all she had known of him was an outside persona – an act. He certainly wasn't what she would have expected. He had been surprising her since that first night. That first night he had been horrid, but she had noticed (even then) flashes of what seemed like regret or discomfort with what was happening. At the time she had not been able to identify it, but looking back (and after hearing his explanation) she believed what he had told her. He was doing what he had been told to do. Of course, that really didn't make it any better. He didn't _have_ to be a Death Eater, after all. He didn't _have to_ support the evilest monster that ever lived. He could have said no. He could have let her go. He could have stood up to his master.

Hermione knew Lucius Malfoy would never say no to Lord Voldemort, though. It was his greatest weakness and it was why she knew it wasn't safe to completely trust him. However, she did truly believe the man wanted to help her within the confines of his ability. He was tender, and he didn't want to physically harm her, and he didn't want Draco to harm her either. Lucius was the closest thing she had to a savior in this new world and she would grasp on to that and hang on for dear life.

After her shower, Hermione met Lucius for breakfast in the dining hall. The older Malfoy was absorbed with his morning paper, although she caught him shoot glances at her over his paper occasionally. He handed her the social section and the funnies. She was longing to read the real news, but Lucius simply folded those sections and set them aside, not including them in her allowed reading.

He sipped his tea and put down his cup, studying her for a moment. "You look lovely today, Hermione." He looked at her kindly, his eyes soft and on her own. She noticed that lately he spent less time looking at her body during conversation and more time looking at her face and her eyes. It was an observation that she had not acknowledged until this moment.

"Thank you, sir." Hermione noticed Abraxas was in a different portrait this morning, sitting behind Lucius. She wondered if this was by design and kept her response formal.

A slightly confused look on Lucius' face gave way to understanding when he noticed her gaze move from the portraits behind him to his face and back again.

His tone was more formal. "So, today you will limit your activities to your suite, the library, the lady's parlor, and the pool. You will not swim without Tinny's presence."

Hermione internally rejoiced with visions of the day ahead of her. She kept her face serious and slightly downtrodden as though the restrictions were a disappointment and a burden. "Yes, sir."

He stood abruptly. "You will dress appropriately for guests this evening, Miss Granger. Your former professor and his charge will be joining us to dine."

Hermione felt excitement bubble up inside her and had to fight the squeal that wanted to erupt like champagne out of a just popped bottle. "Yes, sir," she responded, her voice slightly choked.

Lucius slightly cocked an eyebrow, noticing the subtle change in her. "Behave, Miss Granger. I shall return mid-afternoon."

* * *

After Lucius left for work, Hermione once again found herself wandering to the lady's parlor. She found it odd that she was preferring the parlor to the library, but she was really enjoying the airiness and lightness that the room provided. It felt like a room from a fairytale. Not to mention it held that piano, which simply called to her.

She stepped into the welcoming room, surprised to find the portraits all full. Some of them even held more than one occupant. She glanced around at the faces that were starting to become familiar, even though she didn't know their names. They were all women and judging by their attire, she could guess some of the portraits dated back many centuries. There was even a portrait in the corner, where the woman wore a crown and a gown that screamed royalty. She made her way to the sofa, lightly caressing the piano lovingly as she passed by.

She sat down, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet up underneath her as she picked up her book off the end table.

Hermione heard a scoff of disapproval from one of the portraits. She looked to her side, finding it was the same portrait that always glared at her disdainfully. It was a dark and foreboding portrait, depicting a severe looking, older woman dressed in black.

Hermione was stunned when she heard the voice of Narcissa Malfoy seemingly come to her defense. "Ediva, really. The girl is not in company. She is alone, and her feet are clean. Did you never want to kick off your shoes and curl up with a good book in your day?"

The voice that responded was haughty and sneering in nature. "She is a Mudblood and should have no rights to the _lady's_ parlor! Much less should she be removing her shoes in a public room. She is not in her…quarters. This room has been the receiving room and parlor for centuries of Malfoy matriarchs. It's offensive that she has been given use of this room."

Narcissa's kind voice spoke loudly. "Ignore Ediva, Miss Granger."

Hermione turned around to study the portrait that housed the most recent Lady Malfoy.

"Allow me to properly introduce myself, Miss Granger. I am Narcissa."

Hermione stood and faced the portrait. She didn't mean for her words to sound so sharp. "Yes, we've met. In this house, a few months ago. Your sister crucio'd me as you stood and watched."

"Impudent, ungrateful," Ediva's portrait exclaimed with indignation.

Narcissa's voice was yielding and apologetic. "Yes, I ... feel badly about that. I regret my inaction." Neither Hermione nor Narcissa said anything. Narcissa continued after a pause, the other portraits moving their gazes between the two witches with curiosity. "Our lives were in danger, Miss Granger … my husband's and my son's. One day, if you have children, you will understand. There is _nothing_ you won't do for them."

Hermione found it shocking that anyone could love Draco Malfoy, and she couldn't help but wonder what type of woman raises a son who turns out so hateful. As Hermione studied Narcissa's portrait, however, she saw nothing but truth and a touch of sadness in the woman's eyes. Hermione found she believed Narcissa's sincerity. What would be the purpose for Narcissa to lie at this point?

Hermione's stance softened and in turn, Narcissa spoke again. "I am so pleased you are in use of this room, Miss Granger. It is far too lovely not to be enjoyed."

Hermione offered a slight, hesitant smile at the woman's kindness. "Thank you, I find the lightness to be … comforting. The piano is also quite … therapeutic."

"You play beautifully." A different voice spoke softly. The voice came from a kind-faced, blonde witch, dressed in rather contemporary robes.

There were gasps form several portraits as all eyes turned to the witch whom had just spoken for the first time in a decade. Narcissa's jaw fell open and then she smiled, looking from the portrait to Hermione and back. "Willow! How lovely to hear your voice after all these years!"

Hermione looked at Lucius' mother's portrait. The woman was looking at Hermione with such kindness and obvious approval.

"Your lack of internal metronome is your only fault. I will try to help you with that, if you'll let me."

Hermione swallowed heavily, thrilled to have a chance to learn more. She quickly glanced at the whispering portraits around her before looking back at Willow. "I would be honored for your assistance."

Narcissa watched in amazement. Willow Malfoy had barely said anything in the twenty years since her death and she had not spoken at all for the past ten of those years.

Willow's tone became confident as did her portrait. Hermione noticed her sit up taller as she gazed from Hermione to the piano. "No time like the present, Miss Granger. Do some warm up scales and we will begin."

* * *

Lucius arrived home earlier than expected, only an hour after lunch. Hermione was not in her chambers and not in the library. He walked into the lady's parlor, finding the girl curled up in a ball, sleeping on the sofa. There was a book in a heap on the floor, it was apparent she had fallen asleep while reading.

She looked so young and peaceful when she slept.

He stepped further into the room, glancing at the many portraits that all seemed to be napping as well. Looking at Hermione, he thought about how much had changed over the course of her time at the manor. That first night he would not have imagined a time would come where he would have allowed her into this room, much less into his heart. He would have never believed he would grow to care for the girl, in any capacity.

He thought back to that first night and the hope she'd had that he would release her. He remembered the longing in her eyes. She had wanted them to be better wizards than they were, and not rape her. Her pleading words, those expressive eyes bright with courage and the wish that his humanity would render her safe.

It had been, of course, beyond his control. He had played his part well with his crude and lecherous behavior. A lot of his act had been for his audience, but part of it had been for his need to dehumanize her and to distance himself from the task at hand. She was a Mudblood, and while that certainly helped him justify his actions, she was also practically a child. Despite her unfortunate heritage, he couldn't help but see her as an innocent. She had been a virgin, no less, which only increased his disgust with the whole situation.

When he had taken her, when he had stolen her innocence, it had made him physically ill. Lucius had not expected to react in such a way, but it was those damned eyes. He had ignored the pleas of many victims in his checkered past, for words really had no effect on his resolve. This had been different, however, and that damn mirror gave him no choice. Not to mention his father's portrait, which had enjoyed the show with leering eyes.

As soon as the act was finished, Lucius had put on a cold mask of indifference and quickly made his way to his bathroom where he could be alone and regain his bearings. A splash of cold water on his face helped. After only a couple minutes, he was able to get his mindset back in the game enough to return to the bedroom and ignore the outrageous display his son was bestowing. Her cries and humiliation were tuned out completely as he set about performing some mindless tasks about his suite – picking up his robes, putting some books away, contemplating a Ministry meeting the next day. That was, until Draco had yelled out Lucius had given Hermione her first orgasm ever. He had never been so horrified by a statement in his life. The girl had never known any sexual attention? Even from her own hand? It was almost unbelievable, and the sick feeling returned, and he struggled to blot out the rest of her humiliation.

His ability to ignore what was going on around him only deteriorated from there. The abuse his son inflicted on the girl had started out simply as a shock – but now? The thought of his son harming the girl was infuriating.

Hermione was correct this morning – Draco would be back, and soon. The bond would give him no choice. Having company tonight would hopefully distract them both from that disturbing inevitability.

Deciding to let her sleep, Lucius crept out of the room and headed for his chambers, not aware of his wife who was watching him with knowing eyes.

Upon entering his suite, Lucius emptied his pockets. Grabbing his book, he planned to head back down to his study until it was time to dress for dinner.

"Lucius, darling."

Lucius' eyes shot up to his wife's portrait. "Narcissa, flower. How are you today?"

"I am quite well, thank you." He smiled at her and made to leave his room, but she spoke again, causing him to pause. "The Muggle-born girl is proving to be a welcome addition to the manor. She provided the ladies with hours of entertainment on the piano today. Despite being Muggle-born, most of them are warming to her and are accepting her presence. I must admit, she has a certain charm and flare about her."

Narcissa contemplated mentioning the astounding verbosity of Willow. Ultimately, it was a concern that it would not continue, however. To save Lucius from subsequent disappointment, if that were the case, Narcissa kept quiet. Willow's death had been devastating for Lucius. He had lost his mother at a tender young age and a vulnerable time in his life. For all his claims that it was a good thing his mother never spoke, Narcissa knew it tore him up inside that Willow's portrait was such a shell of her former self. Lucius had even wondered if the charm had not worked properly, rendering her without the ability to speak. She'd spoken some random thoughts over the years, though, which made Lucius believe she was silent by choice.

Narcissa was determined not to treat Draco the same way. She spoke to him daily when he was in the manor, and even though he didn't respond, or even look her, she knew he heard her. The boy was grieving, and he was angry at her for leaving him. One day he would forgive her.

Narcissa's focus moved back to Lucius when he spoke.

Lucius sighed heavily, frustrated that Hermione had not yet opened to him about the piano. "Well, I am pleased she has proved to be … entertaining."

"Lu, what is it? You have not been yourself of late. Is it still the Muggle-born girl? Are you still fighting your physical desire for her? Still feeling guilty about her age?"

Lucius swallowed and looked up at his wife. "I am … adjusting. It is becoming more palatable." That was all he would share for now. There was no need to disclose to his wife he was developing feelings for the girl, even if they were simply feelings of concern for her well-being and a desire to see her happy and safe.

Narcissa watched the wheels spin in her husband's head. She knew him so much better than he gave her credit for. When in the world was he going to admit he was falling for the girl.

* * *

Narcissa had always made a slightly late arrival when they entertained guests, wanting to make a grand entrance. She had been beautiful, but she had also been vain. She had relished the adoration and attention an entrance delivered just the right way would inspire. The simple truth was, men and women both had found Narcissa captivating and charming, so she had gotten away with it. Lucius had hated it, however, finding it rude and clearly obvious as to what she was doing.

Therefore, when Lucius checked on Hermione approximately twenty minutes before their guests were to arrive, he was pleased to find her dressed and ready. Her gown was beautiful and she looked radiant.

Hermione felt a blush heat her cheeks when Lucius took a long moment to take in her appearance, his eyes raking up and down her body. When Tinny dressed her this evening, she had found herself imagining his reaction. The dress was simple, but elegant and sexy as well. It was a floor length black number that hugged her curves to her hips and had a short train. The special part of it, however, was that it was of a choker collar design that left her shoulders and back bare. The collar portion of the dress was studded in aurora borealis crystals that caught every flicker of candle light. There was an oblong cut out from just under the collar to just between her breasts that gave a hint of cleavage. She felt … well, she felt bloody gorgeous, and Lucius' actual reaction far surpassed her imagination.

After a few moments of heated silence, he cleared his throat. "You look very lovely, Miss Granger," his tone was a bit rough and she felt a smile pull at one corner of her lips.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she answered demurely, dropping her gaze in her modesty. She grabbed the black lace shrug that Tinny had suggested for extra warmth and slipped it on.

"Come, we need to be downstairs when they arrive." Lucius held his hand out to her and when she softly took it, he felt warmth flush over him. He looked at her, noticing a slight flush to her complexion, and wondered if she had felt it as well.

They had only been in the study for a moment before Bilby announced the arrival of Severus Snape and Ginevra Weasley.

While the first few minutes had been awkward, the four became a bit more comfortable by the time Bilby served the drinks.

This time, Ginny was instructed by Severus to sit on the sofa, next to Hermione, while the men sat in the matching wing-back chairs closer to the mantle. Hermione and Ginny sat quietly as, once again, the conversation between the men turned to Voldemort and politics.

Hermione looked at her friend and whispered, "Ginny, how are you?"

Ginny smiled softly at Hermione. "I'm well...I'm…happy." Her words were hesitant, as though she were ashamed.

Hermione was surprised. _Happy with Snape?_

Hermione smiled in return, looking curiously and discreetly at her former professor. In truth he looked … good. His color had improved, and he was no longer so pallid. He had a pleasant expression, his constant scowl gone. He laughed at something Lucius had just said, which Hermione had entirely missed.

She looked at Lucius, finding him laughing as well. It was surreal, she bound to Lucius and Ginny to Snape. Looking back at Ginny, Hermione's jaw fell when she saw how Ginny was looking at Snape. Hermione had only ever seen Ginny look at one other wizard with that gleam in her eyes – and that had been Harry. Ginny was in _love_ with Snape?

Hermione sipped her drink, slightly shaken. How could Ginny feel this way? _Towards Snape?_ The man who was responsible for this disgusting bond. The man who played both sides in the war, simply to save his own skin. He clearly didn't really care that the light lost.

 _Don't be a hypocrite, Hermione_. Her own internal scolding brought her up short.

_No, it's not the same. I'm only trying to make the best of a deplorable situation. I'm not falling for Lucius Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!_

Hermione suddenly felt tense and uncomfortable. It was the same way lying to herself always made her feel. _Am I lying?_ She looked at Lucius, and found his eyes on her, watching her curiously. It was as though he were trying to read her mind. She knew he wasn't, she had been on the receiving end of his Legilimens and she knew what that felt like. Lucius looked away as he said something to Snape that she tuned out, still too lost in her own musings.

She was brought out of those musings when a soft hand draped over her own. She looked at Ginny, who was looking at her with concern. Ginny whispered, "Are you alright? You look pale."

Hermione smiled reassuringly at her friend. "I'm perfectly well, I'm just hungry and this wine is going to my head, that's all."

"Well, how about you? Are things better?" Ginny glanced over Hermione's face, clearly looking for evidence of more of the abuse that had been littered on Hermione's face during the last visit.

"Yes, Ginny. Much better. Please don't worry about me. I'm happy that you're happy."

Ginny's eyes welled slightly. "I miss… I miss…"

Hermione looked at her friend knowingly. "I know you do. I miss them all, as well. Your family, Harry and Ron … our friends."

Ginny nodded, conveying that Hermione said it perfectly.

Hermione sighed. "We have to make the best of what life gives us, Gin."

"What are you lovely ladies talking about over there?" Hermione looked at Lucius, finding his expression to be soft but curious.

Deciding a touch of honesty in this façade of a get-together was necessary, Hermione responded. "We were discussing how we missed our family and friends and how we find that we are lucky to be alive and safe and together." Okay, so maybe she embellished their conversation a tad, but it was what she was feeling and it needed to be said. She and Ginny were captives, but they were alive, and they were safe … at least for now.

Snape grinned and lifted his glass to her. "Spoken like a true Hufflepuff."

Hermione lifted her brow. "Or, perhaps we were discussing the locations of your wands, and the proximity of the door or the floo."

Snape laughed. "Ah, that's more like the Gryffindor spirit."

Hermione cut him a deviant glance. "And then, determining there was risk to ourselves and a chance of failure or death, we ceased all our scheming." After a brief pause, she added, "Wouldn't want to leave Slytherin out of the mix, now would we?"

Lucius let out a bark of a laugh. "Now, now, princess, there's no need to goad a viper. Use your head."

Hermione looked at Lucius. "Hmm, a touch of Ravenclaw from one of the greenest snakes I've ever met."

Ginny was staring at Hermione with a shocked expression, wonder in her eyes and her jaw practically in her lap.

"How _doo_ you put up with her?" Snape asked Lucius with amusement.

Lucius grinned and looked back at Hermione, wondering if another witty response would fall from her lips.

Hermione looked from Snape to Ginny. "So, Ginny, is it true our dear former professor…"

Lucius wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved when Billy popped into the room. "Dinner is served," the elf announced, bowing so low his nose practically touched the ground.

A moment's pause had Snape and Hermione watching each other before he smiled as he stood. He held his arm out. "Allow me, Miss Granger." Hermione smiled and accepted his olive branch.

Lucius stood, offering his arm to Ginny and the four of them entered the dining room.

Hermione had to admit, the Malfoys knew how to entertain. The table was set beautifully. A white linen table cloth draped the table to the floor. A statement arrangement of all white flowers drew the eyes to the center of the table. White roses, lily's, orchids, gladiolus, and tulips – as well as others Hermione didn't recognize – filled a large crystal bowl. The crystal bowl was larger than a punch bowl with several white beta fish swimming amongst the visible green stems. Black candles in a variety of heights littered the table. Their flames, when added to the dimly lit wall sconces, created dancing shadows throughout the room. A bright moon was visible through the windows, and added to the dramatic look. Hermione caught her own reflection in the mirror and found the sparkling crystals on the collar of her dress as well as the flowing, black material blended with the evenings table design beautifully. She secretly wondered if this was something Tinny had done on purpose. Perhaps this was something Narcissa had required of the elf.

The table had been downsized so it was merely huge and not gargantuan. The men held out the chairs for their companions so that they sat across from each other and then the men followed suit.

An appetizer of chilled oysters on the shell was followed by an entrée of chicken and scallops in champagne butter with delicious roasted carrots and asparagus.

Lucius watched Hermione's eyes light when she noticed the scallops and her obvious enjoyment of her dinner was a delight. Snape seemed to be of the same mindset where the Weasley girl was concerned. The gentlemen allowed the girls to talk freely during dinner. It should not have surprised Lucius when Hermione inquired how the Hogwarts house elves were faring. She took a particular interest in an elf named Kreacher. Lucius vaguely remembered Draco had spoken years ago of her obsession with freeing house elves.

She had just put the last bite of a scallop in her smiling mouth – after responding to a teasing Ginny – when Draco stormed into the room, obviously furious for God only knew why. "Sorry to interrupt your little party," he sneered.

 **Dress:**  
https **colon** /d10ljxbnndy5rk **dot** cloudfront **dot** net/1000/50122 **dot** jpg

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	14. Chapter Fourteen

**A huge hug and shout out to the amazingly talented LissaDream. She deserves all the praise for this chapter as she is the one who wrote it! She and I discussed what we wanted to happen in this chapter and she brilliantly stroked it to paper...or computer screen.. ;) Please give her lots of much deserved praise! Love you, Lissa!**

**The next update won't be for a few weeks. Lissa and I are going to try to focus on _The Affair_ for a bit. It's been shamefully neglected due to _Master Mine_ and _World Not Fit_ taking all our time. We also have all that surrounds Christmas and New Years upon us as well as jobs, school and children. **

**Thanks to all who comment :)**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

She had just put the last bite of a scallop in her smiling mouth after responding to a teasing Ginny when Draco stormed into the room, obviously furious for God only knew why. "Sorry to interrupt your little party," he sneered.

Lucius watched with saddened eyes as her beautiful smile froze on her face and the laughter stuck in her throat. His heart ached as her eyes clouded with fear. She looked to him briefly, and he saw the understanding on her face. She knew he could do nothing. How he wished he could do _some_ thing. She quickly took a sip of her water to wash down her food.

"Up, Mudblood," Draco commanded. "Let's have a repeat of Sunday, yes?" His voice was laced with venom.

Ginny looked like she was about to say something, and Hermione raised her hand. "Ginny, it's okay," Hermione said firmly as the bond forced her up from her chair.

"Damned right it's okay." Draco seemed a bit surprised when Hermione walked towards him without being commanded.

"Let's go to your room, Draco," she suggested softly. There was the briefest of hesitations as Draco processed her words, and then his hand was in her hair, roughly twisting it and jerking her head back. She let out a whimper, her hands raising to try and hold her head steady as her eyes flew to take in Snape and Ginny's dumbfounded expressions. "Please, Draco. Let's go elsewhere," she pleaded.

"What's the matter, Mudblood? Don't feel like putting on a show today? You seemed just fine with it on Sunday…or is it just my father you like to perform for?" He sneered at her while yanking her lace shawl off her shoulders.

Hermione felt panic rise in her. She had told herself this would happen. She had known he was coming – it had been over three days at this point. Why hadn't she considered other people being involved, though? She turned pleading eyes on Lucius when Draco pushed her up to the table and forced her to bend over it.

"Draco," Lucius drawled, taking a sip of his wine. "Take her out, I have guests."

"Father…" Draco began to protest, but Lucius raised his voice and cut across him.

"I said _out_ , Draco. Anywhere but this room." His tone was dismissive, but Hermione knew he was doing his best to help her. The evil, malicious eyes of Abraxas Malfoy were watching their every move.

Draco mumbled some expletives as he hauled her back into an upright position. She wasn't able to stop the pained whimper that left her throat, he was quite literally ripping hair out of her head.

"Go to the study." Draco shoved Hermione and Lucius watched with guarded eyes as she stumbled before she was able to catch herself. Once she had, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Overwhelming pride and protectiveness filled him along with the sorrow he felt because he couldn't put an end to what was about to happen.

"Put a silencing charm on the study, Draco," Lucius commanded as Hermione quietly moved through the door. Draco threw a glare at Lucius over his shoulder before slamming the door hard behind him.

Lucius couldn't help but flinch. Inside, his stomach roiled. After what he and Hermione had shared that morning, this was unbearable. His sense of her anguish was heightened. She had enjoyed his touch, had returned his kisses and affection. For the first time he had felt she was actively participating. That perhaps she was coming to care for him the way he cared for her.

He realized he had been quiet for too long, and took a moment to take in the dinner table. They had almost finished the main course. Dessert was next, and he had learned over the last few days just how much Hermione enjoyed her sweets. He would wait to see if she would return.

"Coffee or tea? We'll have dessert when Miss Granger can join us again." His tone was calm and cool, and he wanted to defend himself when Ginny threw him a venomous glare.

Suddenly, there was a crash from the study accompanied by a shriek of alarm that tapered into a groan of obvious pain. Lucius' eyes slid shut as his heart clenched. Of course, his worthless son hadn't put up the silencing charm as Lucius had demanded.

Ginny jerked in her chair and Lucius observed in fascination as Snape settled a gentle, but warning hand on her wrist.

"Draco, please!" They could hear Hermione beg, her voice quavering with unshed tears. "Let's go to your room, there's no need to ruin everyone's dinner. They don't want to hear –"

The obvious sound of flesh meeting flesh in a heavy-handed blow reverberated through the closed door and was followed by a choked feminine sob along with his son's voice spewing indistinguishable insults. Lucius sighed heavily – embarrassed and angry and fearful for the girl that was starting to mean so much to him. Even though it nearly killed him, he stood from his seat and pulled out his wand. Pointing it at the door of his study, he whispered. " _Silencio_." Hermione would be even more mortified if they heard the entire interlude.

When Lucius returned to his seat, he was surprised to see Snape tenderly wiping tears from Ginny's face as he murmured in her ear. Lucius averted his gaze, feeling as though he were intruding on a very private moment. Like a witness to a terrible accident, however, he couldn't help but glance back just as the Potions Master pressed an affectionate kiss to the girl's forehead. Was Snape in love with her? Those were dangerous waters to be treading – Lucius did not envy his friend if he was. He quickly glanced around the portraits, confirming the coast was clear. He would need to warn Snape.

On the other side of the door, Hermione cradled a stinging cheek and tried to stop the swell of tears from slipping down her face. "Please just tell me what you want from me, I will comply," she said in a voice shaky with tears. "You don't have to be so rough."

Draco snorted cruelly. "You think I'm going to buy that shit, Mudblood? I'm gone three days and my father has suddenly taught you your place? I don't think so, you're playing at something." He was suspicious of her new behavior, and she supposed she couldn't blame him. "Strip!" he snapped.

Even without the bond, Hermione would have complied immediately. She didn't understand why he was so angry – surely this fury should have waned by now? It's not like she was still a novelty to him. She slipped out of her heels and undid the snaps at the back of the collar on her dress before slipping it down over her body and stepping out of it. She draped it across the nearest chair, so it wasn't in a puddle on the floor.

She was not wearing knickers because she was still under the command that she wasn't allowed. The dress was backless, so she also did not have a bra on. She stood in nude colored thigh-high stockings and a cream lace garter belt with straps. The bracelet and earrings Tinny had picked out sparkled in the dim light of the fire that crackled in the hearth.

Hermione raised her chin when Draco simply stood and stared at her for a moment. She would not let him intimidate her into hiding or cowering in front of him. It was the only saving grace she had with him – he was physically attracted to her. If she was careful, she might be able to use that to her advantage. She knew what was coming, what he had to do to maintain the bond, but she would be the one to push this scene forward, to get it over with.

"Where do you want me?" she asked in a clear, strong voice. His eyes met hers in surprise before they clouded with anger and his lips curled up in a malicious smile.

"Since you're so eager, my little Mudblood whore, how about you do the work tonight?"

He stalked across the room while undoing his belt and slid his pants down his hips before sitting in the chair nearest the fire. His erection was hard and jutted straight out of his lap and he crooked a finger at her. "Come climb up and show me what my father has taught you the last few days."

Hermione felt bile rise in the back of her throat as the bond kicked in and forced her to move across the room. After this morning with Lucius, after feeling wanted and

pleasured, this was unbearable. She didn't want this, but had no choice. Using the back of the chair, she climbed into her nemesis' naked lap.

"Take my cock in your hand and line it up with your little cunt," he sneered, and her body automatically moved to comply. She was not ready, not even a little moisture would ease his passage into her. He seemed to realize this when she pressed the tip of his erection to her small entrance. He sighed heavily and pushed her away. "Touch yourself, get yourself wet. Stop when you're ready" His expression was bored, and Hermione's cheeks flamed with embarrassment and disgust as her fingers automatically slid down to play with her clit.

She'd had enough experiences at this point to know what felt good and what didn't. Lucius felt good – made her feel good – and his ministrations had helped her discover her own body. Draco was not good to her, everything he did ended with her in pain. After a few minutes of fondling herself so she was wet, she stopped. Hermione cringed when he dipped his fingers roughly into her core to check for himself – it was so different from the tender touches of the morning. He grunted his approval and grasped her hips, positioning her again. "Sit on my cock, Mudblood," he sneered at her. She was infuriated that he was making her – in essence – rape herself. She felt a tear slide down her cheek and seethed internally at her weakness. She needed to stop crying in front of him. It gave him a power over her she didn't want him to have.

"Fuck," he groaned quietly when he was buried to her hilt. "Ride me," he commanded, and Hermione's traitorous body complied. She rolled her hips, gagging when he groaned with pleasure. His mouth latched on to one of her bare breasts while a hand came up to grab and brutalize the other. It hurt, and she whimpered with the pain. He answered her non-verbal protest by biting her – hard. She jerked, trying to pull away and he flattened a hand on her mid-back to hold her close as he laughed and bit her again. Another tear streaked down her face. She turned away from him, refusing to watch and refusing to let him see her anguish. Instead, she found herself face to face with the leering, creepy portrait of Abraxas Malfoy. She was so startled for a moment that she lost rhythm and Draco's had cracked down on her ass.

"Faster, you little bitch," he ordered. "Grab the back of the chair with both hands and slam your hips down." Hermione couldn't help the sob that escaped at she complied unwillingly. Forcing her eyes away from the voyeuristic painting, she focused on the dancing flames of the fire instead. Draco continued to roughly palm and bite the tender flesh of her breasts. Her gasps were of pain, his were of pleasure. "That's it. My, my, Granger, you have gotten good at this." His breath was uneven, and he bucked his hips slightly to meet her tempo. "It's good you know your place, slut," he sneered. "Holes to fuck, pleasure to give," he snarled. "Did you think if you were a good girl, I'd be easier on you?" He grabbed her face in one hand and dragged it around to look at him. He held her stare while her body continued to unwilling pleasure his, daring her to fight with him. She wouldn't. She wasn't going to put herself in unnecessary danger anymore. _"Please don't do anything to force my hand,"_ Lucius had begged her. She would do as he asked.

"Answer me!" he commanded.

"Yes," she stated flatly, dropping her eyes even though he held her chin still.

He gave her a vile smile before letting her go. "Think again. Harder!"

Another broken cry left her as her body complied. It hurt, every thrust crashed against her cervix in an uncomfortable sensation. It hadn't hurt with Lucius except for the very first time, and even then, it had been only for a moment. She squeezed her eyes shut, panting with her efforts – when had her view of Lucius Malfoy become so positive? Draco's breathing grew increasingly ragged and she prayed his climax would take him soon. Her thighs were starting to burn, and she was fighting against a cramp in her calf.

"Faster, slut! Don't stop moving until I come." His hand cracked down on her ass again, making her let out a choked gasp as her body was forced to moved even more quickly. She was bitterly grateful when he grasped her hips and reared up into her. A strangled sound left his throat and she knew he had come. Her body responded by slowing gradually and finally stilling above him. It took effort not to collapse onto him – she was absolutely spent, gasping for breath while her muscles shook with fatigue.

"Get off," he growled at her, once his breathing had calmed. She scrambled to comply, happy to be rid of the feeling of him inside her. She winced as she lifted herself off him and cringed as she felt the rush of fluids down her inner thighs.

"Tell my father I said I'll see him in three days." She didn't look at him as he fixed his clothes and used the other exit of the study to leave.

Hermione gave herself ten minutes to calm before she redressed. She knew she was probably an utter mess, but had no way to fix her appearance. Her hair had come loose, and the roots were sweaty. She had most likely smeared her makeup with her tears. The only problem was, Lucius hadn't told her whether she could be excused, so she would have to go back to the dining room.

Doing her best to conceal her mortification, she slowly pushed open the door. Three sets of eyes, all concerned, looked up when she entered. It took a hard swallow not to burst into tears of shame. Suddenly, a blur of red hair was barreling at her and she was forcibly pulled into a bone crushing hug from Ginny Weasley. It was her undoing – she buried her face in her friend's neck and returned the embrace as she started to sob. The men at the table looked at each other for an uncomfortable moment. Lucius was the first to break away from their silent communication, scanning the portraits to see if he needed to put an end to the girls' affection. He was relieved to find his father gone and the only other, insignificant ancestor was dozing in his frame. The rest of the portraits were empty. It looked as though Abraxas had gone to report to the Dark Lord, so Lucius gave Hermione time to seek comfort from her friend.

Lucius returned his attention to his tea, all the while keeping the two girls who were clinging desperately to each other in his peripheral vision. Eventually, it was Snape who called an end to their embrace. Ginny was gently commanded back to the table and Hermione made her way to her seat next to Lucius.

"Let me see you," he directed her softly when she sat. His affection for the girl was threatening to spill out completely, he just wanted to pull her into his arms. She turned her face to his and he forced down the need to swear crudely. Her lip was split, her left cheek was already starting to swell with a bruise, and her hair was a mess. Quickly and kindly, he used his wand to mend her lip before adding a cooling charm to decrease the swelling under her eye.

"We'll get some bruise paste back in your chambers," he said softy, not unaware that Snape and Ginny were watching his every move with surprised fascination. Just as softly, he whispered a charm of Narcissa's that would set her hair right. "Is there anything else I can do?" he inquired, his voice was so quiet he was barely moving his lips.

Hermione leaned in and pressed her mouth against his ear, hiding her face behind his so their guests could not see her. She was embarrassed by her coming entreaty. "A _Scourgify_ , please." Her voice trembled over her request and Lucius felt his eyes slide shut, trying to block out the emotional turmoil he was experiencing. He placed his wand along her thigh and silently cast the charm and was astounded when she rewarded him with a gentle kiss of thanks to his cheek before she pulled away.

Neither Lucius nor Hermione witnessed the silent communication that happened between the other couple as Snape and Ginny watched the interaction between Hermione and the older Malfoy.

"Dessert, Miss Granger?" Lucius raised his voice to normal conversation level as he met Snape's eyes, daring the man to say anything about healing his captive. Snape held his long-time friend's gaze, silently trying to communicate his approval.

"Yes, please, sir," Hermione answered, using her fingers to wipe the lingering moisture of tears off her face. "I apologize for the interruption of dinner," she addressed their guests and Lucius almost scolded her aloud for such a ridiculous proclamation. The fury that filled him was for his son, however. He would not embarrass her further even though she had _nothing_ to apologize for – it was Draco who needed to come apologize.

Ginny's face revealed her own disgusted shock at Hermione's act of contrition, but it was Snape who answered, his voice deep and soothing. "No one here blames you for that interruption, Miss Granger. Lucius seemed to think you would have liked us to wait for you before we had dessert, and we were happy to oblige."

Hermione gave Lucius a soft, grateful smile. "She likes her sweets," the elder Malfoy announced by way of explanation. He returned her silent thanks with a nod of his head. "Strawberry trifle tonight, Miss Granger," he told her and smirked when her eyes lit.

"Bilby!" he called. The elf appeared. "We are prepared for dessert." The elder elf snapped his fingers and the trifle appeared at each place setting. "Thank you, Bilby. That will be all." Bilby bowed wordlessly and Disapparated.

"Tea?" Lucius asked Hermione. She nodded while bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. She had already taken a bite of the trifle and one corner of her mouth curled with an apology for her eagerness. She was startled when Lucius added the exact amount of sugar and cream without asking her how she liked it. She glanced at Ginny, whose eyebrows were raised in amazement that, not only was Lord Malfoy serving his captive, but knew how she liked her tea. She felt heat rise to her cheeks. Lucius was being too kind, and Ginny and Snape were noticing. Hermione glanced around the room at the portraits and relaxed slightly when she found all but one empty, and that one occupant was sleeping.

"Draco told me to tell you he'll be back in three days," Hermione said softly, starting to feel the pull of the bond, and realizing she had forgotten to relay the message.

"Did he say anything else?" Lucius asked nonchalantly.

"No, sir."

Lucius asked after the satisfaction of the dessert to his guests. He was saddened that the night had taken such an uncomfortable turn – Hermione had been happy. They had been enjoying themselves immensely. It had felt…well, it had felt bloody good to feel normal. He noticed when Hermione finished her dessert.

"Would you like to be excused, Miss Granger?" he questioned. He was starting to know her too well; her body language was screaming her need to escape.

Large, grateful eyes met his and he was disheartened to see tears sparkling in them. "Yes, please, sir. I am sorry, I'm just so tired," she excused herself.

"Of course, you may go." Lucius responded understandingly. Snape and Ginny murmured their goodbyes as they all stood to see her out, and Lucius turned a blind eye when Ginny pulled the girl into one more, fierce hug. Hermione threw a last, grateful look to Lucius before exiting the room.

"Ginerva," Snape said after a moment of silence. "I would like to speak with Mr. Malfoy alone," he told the redhead. "Please wait by the floo in the entrance hall."

"Yes, sir," Ginny answered. "Thank you for the lovely meal, Mr. Malfoy. Your hospitality is appreciated." She dipped a slight curtsey.

"Good-evening, Miss Weasley," Lucius returned with a polite nod to see the young lady off.

"Has he been like that with her from the beginning?" Snape started their conversation with a quiet question. Lucius knew who they were discussing immediately.

"You saw that first night?" Lucius couldn't meet his friend's eyes and he absentmindedly played with his teacup.

"Yes…many of the inner circle were there," Snape said slowly. Lucius looked up into Snape's guarded features.

"I believe that's the kindest he's been to her." His tone was flat, and Snape looked momentarily disgusted before his features schooled again.

"She seems to trust you." It was a statement that could have just as easily been a question.

"We have an … understanding," Lucius said cautiously. "She submits, I take care of her injuries from my son."

Snape made a soft grunting noise and Lucius looked away to scan the portraits.

"I must tell you something," Lucius started. "This is not a threat, I do not want you to take it as such. You seem…protective…of Miss Weasley. She seems to have a little more independence with you than I would have thought."

Snape's tone had hardened when he replied. "What of it?"

"It is none of my business if you've come to care for the girl," Lucius was whispering, hoping beyond hope that he was radiating sincerity. "But I beseech you to be very careful when you are here. We are being constantly watched and reports are taken to the Dark Lord daily."

Snape's eyes widened infinitesimally, and, after a beat of silence, he gave a small nod. Lucius watched the Headmaster carefully, it looked as if he was trying to figure out how to say something. When he finally spoke, Lucius had to focus on controlling his features.

"And what about you, Lucius? Have you come to care for your … pet?" The dark man's silky tone was as reassuring as always, but Lucius' blood ran cold. He wasn't sure how far he could trust Severus Snape.

"That would be very stupid of me," Lucius responded carefully. "Wouldn't it?"

"Indeed."

* * *

Hermione made it up the stairs and out of the ear shot of those in the dining room before allowing herself to cry. By the time she made it to Lucius' suite, she was weeping uncontrollably. Humiliation was the biggest culprit to her emotions, but the second and third things causing her breakdown had been Lucius' kindness in front of someone he wasn't sure he could trust and Ginny's saddened affection. She stripped, throwing the gown she had been so enamored with into a heap. Its appeal had been utterly ruined for her in light of having to take it off to please Draco.

When she had been dressed in the gown this evening, she loved it. Lucius' reaction to it had made her favor it even more. It had felt very powerful to entice such a response from such a man. _You're insane, you know? Feeling this way about him? He could never return your affections. He might care enough to treat you as a human being, he might desire you as a woman, but he will_ never _see you as an equal. You're setting yourself up for disappointment._

Hermione stumbled to the bathroom, not even caring that Lucius might not want her to use his shower. She made the water as scalding hot as she could handle and scrubbed herself fiercely, trying to rid her body of Draco's touch. Her breasts ached from his sadistic torture of them and were riddled with bite marks. He had even broken skin in a couple of places. She was embarrassed to realize she would need to ask Lucius to heal them. After drying her body, she wrapped her dripping hair into a turban with a towel. She missed being able to use a wand to dry her hair. Hermione knew she could call for Tinny, but she just didn't want to be fussed over – and the elf was good at fussing.

She forewent a nightgown in favor of her robe. It would be less awkward to ask Lucius to heal her breasts if she didn't have to remove a nightdress first. She could dress once he was done. Too tired to retrieve the bruise paste from her suite, she climbed onto what had become her side of the bed and curled into a ball with the Potions book she had taken from the Malfoy library (she had finished the Mayan runes book the day before).

This is how Lucius found her. Snuggled in bed, face still blotchy with the remnants of her tears, hair up in a towel, wrapped in her robe, and reading. His heart ached – he had so wanted her to have a good evening. He could kick himself for not factoring Draco into the equation.

He glanced around the room. When he only found Narcissa dozing in a frame, he approached her slowly. "Hermione?" he asked. Luminous brown eyes met his and he let go a deep, soul-weary sigh. "I'm so sorry." Neither noticed Narcissa's portrait jerk awake, her eyes going wide with her husband's apology.

"It's not your fault, Lucius," Hermione returned. "I knew it was coming – as did you. I told you I would weather his advances, and I will."

"I dislike how he treats you," Lucius admitted. He glanced around the room again to make sure they were still alone. "It is not how he was raised."

"I know you do, and I'm beginning to be aware that he wasn't raised this way," she whispered. "I'm grateful that I know it bothers you, it makes it easier to handle. I will be all right." There was silence for a moment and Lucius started to undress so he could get ready for bed.

"I used your shower," she said hesitantly. "I couldn't get there fast enough. I apologize if that was not okay."

"It's fine," he answered. "I don't mind." Another scan of the room confirmed Narcissa was still sleeping –only Narcissa knew she was pretending.

"Lucius?" Hermione yawned, and Lucius smirked as he glanced to her. He was down to just his trousers and was going to move to the bathroom to complete his routine.

"Yes, princess?" Narcissa's eyes flew wide and her eyebrows raised in shock at the endearment before she settled into her pretense again.

"I have some marks that I was hoping you could heal for me." The statement was hesitant and embarrassed, and Lucius felt his stomach knot.

"Where?" He moved to the bed and pulled himself onto it so he could sit next to her. She set her book down on the tall nightstand and sighed. She undid the sash on the robe and pushed it off her shoulders, baring her breasts to him.

A whoosh of angry breath blew through his nose as he took in the marred skin of her chest. He said nothing, not wishing to discomfit her further. Silently, he healed the marks with his wand before pointing it over his shoulder at the hidden door to the mistress suite. " _Accio_ bruise paste," he called. A moment later, the jar slapped into his outstretched hand. He rubbed a dollop of it onto her bruising cheek and gestured for her to do the same to her chest.

She was quiet as she did so, and he cursed himself for his rising libido as he watched her smooth the cream over her breasts.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Lucius knew it was a ridiculous question, how could she be okay? He shifted himself on the bed until he was sitting next to her when she started to sniffle, and pulled her into his arms. He dragged the towel from her head when she willingly snuggled into his side and stroked her damp hair, trying to help her calm.

"I showered the moment I got back," she admitted. "I just…I just had to get him off me, you know? To wash him away. It doesn't seem to have made a difference, though. I just feel so…dirty. Used." A sob left her then, and Lucius' stomach clenched at the sound of her misery. He slipped his fingers under her chin and raised her face to look at her.

"You're not, Hermione," he said softly. "I know this is awful for you…I hate it, too. You were very brave tonight. I was…I was impressed with you. You're handling everything exceptionally well these last few days."

"You do realize that it's because of you, right? You're the reason I'm coping." The wet sound of his tongue unsticking from the roof of his mouth gave away his surprise. Hermione's gaze dropped to his lips before moving back to his eyes.

Did she want him to kiss her again? Oh, he wanted to. Maybe…maybe he could erase the effects of his son? He brought a hand up to cup her face and gave a small sigh when she nuzzled into it. He was unable to stop himself, and covered her lovely lips with his, his pride rising when she gave little whimper and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.

Gods, he loved kissing her. She was incredibly responsive. As he deepened the kiss, he realized it was the first time his tongue was tangling with hers. It was an extraordinary experience that heightened with the tentative touch of her own tongue seeking his. Lucius' fingers moved to knot themselves in her hair and he let out a low growl of approval when her hands tentatively slid over his naked chest. Slowly, but deliberately, he eased himself down onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay partially on top of him. He laced both hands into her long tresses, holding her to him while he kissed her deeply, encouraging her to explore as well.

When one, small, trembling hand curved around his jaw, tentatively seeking out his hair, he groaned against her lips. This only seemed to give her courage and she raked her nails into his hair, against his scalp. He released her face and slipped one arm down and around her waist, rolling her to her back so he now covered her. His mouth left Hermione's, and Lucius pressed open mouthed kisses to her jaw and down her throat, suckling the tender skin over her pulse point. The breathy, needy sigh that left her thrilled him. He suckled harder, making her bow into him and her hands tightened in his hair as she made delicate, delicious noises in her throat. He moved lower, tracing her collar bone with his tongue, showering her with gentle, tender attention. He showed her how good it could be with someone who would take their time to pleasure her in return.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione," he rasped, using his nose to move the top of her robe away while continuing to press kisses to the swell of her breasts. Her breath caught, and he looked up at her. She was watching him with heavy-lidded eyes, and her lips were slightly parted.

Hermione's cheeks were flushed pink and her mind started to work in overdrive. _Why do you want him so? What will it change? So, Lucius is no longer forcing himself on you. So you enjoy his touch. Okay…but you were still raped this evening. You think more sex will change that? Make it better?_

A different voice chimed in, giving her pause and making her eyes sting with tears. _His touch can erase Draco's. His gentleness can take away the torture of Draco's roughness. Draco fucks to hurt you, Lucius is careful and kind and does his best to please you._

She found her voice. "You," she whispered. "I just want you."

His eyes turned liquid, smoldering like molten mercury and he reared over her, capturing her mouth again, his tongue delving deep. She couldn't stop herself, she moaned into his kiss while lifting her head off the bed to try and get closer to him. Hermione trailed her hands down the hard planes of his back until they met the waist band of his pants. Curling them into claws, she lightly scratched her fingernails up his spine. A low growl escaped him, and he ripped his mouth away to look at her properly. Hermione watched him back boldly, telling him with her eyes that she wanted him. Slowly, he divested her of her robe. Pulling the tie, he slipped the soft raiment off her shoulders while allowing her to pull her arms free. The, he reached for his belt, but was startled when small, cool hands covered his.

Hermione sat up, her heart pounding hard when she covered his hands, indicating she wished to undress him. If he was surprised by her gesture, he didn't show it. He sat up on his knees as she slid the leather through the buckle and then tugged to pull it out of the loops. Dropping the belt to the floor, she reached to undo the buttons of his fly. He helped her pull the fabric over his hips and raised his legs, so they could remove the garment completely. She shimmied up to her knees as her hands tentatively explored the hardness of his stomach, skimming over the trail of golden hair that disappeared under the waist band of his undergarment. She then slid them back up to smooth over his chest and shoulders.

Lucius locked his jaw and squeezed his eyes tight, allowing her to explore. Realizing she had never had the chance before, it only seemed right to give it to her now. When her fingers trailed up the column of his neck before caressing his jaw, he opened his eyes to see her watching him carefully.

"Does that hurt?" she asked, confused by his pained expression. He sniggered incredulously, knowing his boxers were tented and secretly enjoying her tentative glances down before returning her eyes to his.

"No." His voice was gruff. "It feels very nice," he reached and snagged one of her hands with his, placing it flat on his chest before guiding it down to dip into the waistband of his underwear. "It would feel better if you continued down here," he raised an eyebrow suggestively and relished the crimson color that rose to stain her cheeks.

Emboldened by his answer and guidance, Hermione dropped her other hand to assist in the removal of his boxers, watching wide-eyed as his cock sprang free. Her mouth popped open audibly and she felt a deeper heat rise to her face. It was the first time she was getting a close look at him intimately. It was bigger than she had thought, and slightly larger than Draco, but otherwise looked much the same as Draco. She didn't know how she felt about that, so she swatted the thought out of her brain.

She lightly skimmed her nails down its length and felt powerful when the touch drew a hissing gasp from him. "Please use your hand to encircle it," he requested. Because it wasn't a command, she was able to move at her own pace, lightly taking his length in her palm and giving it a tentative squeeze, he groaned again. Hermione used the fingers of her other hand to touch the mushroom shaped tip of his erection, smearing the creamy drop of liquid that appeared at its tip.

"For the love of Merlin, Hermione." Lucius' voice was ragged, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. He read her look without her saying a word. "No, it doesn't hurt," he assured her. "Feels too bloody good." He reached and gripped her chin, pulling her face back to his in another searing kiss. She hummed against his mouth in appreciation as his hands skimmed down her stomach and into her sex, parting her folds and finding her excited. "Fuck," he said against her lips before crowding into her space and pushing her back to the bed.

Once she was supine, he knelt between her legs. "Did you like it when I put my mouth on you this morning?" he asked huskily.

She only paused a moment before she breathed out, "Yes."

"Good," he smoothed his palms up her inner thighs, gently guiding her legs apart to open her sex to him. His mouth watered to taste her again, and he didn't hesitate, just dropped his lips to her belly and laved his tongue down her pubis into her slick folds. Her gasp shot straight to his prick and he watched with increasing pleasure as her fingers twisted into the sheets next to her hips. He delved lower, fucking her with his tongue, making her squirm and pant.

"Ooh, Gods," she whimpered and then she seemed to lose her inhibition. Her hands tangled into his hair, pulling him closer. Lucius growled and slid his hand up her thigh to slip two fingers into her pussy as he moved his mouth to her clit. Little moans were snarling in her throat and her legs trembled as her fingernails dug into his scalp – and he loved it. Her response was just so…free.

Lucius readjusted her, helping her slide her legs around his shoulders as he worked his tongue faster. Hermione's breaths came in wilder, more frantic pants and she arched, her thighs clamping around his head.

 _Bloody, fucking, hell!_ She was losing herself and it was making Lucius' libido roar. He curled his fingers, knowing this was a fail-safe way of make her come – and she did, wonderfully. "Uungghh!" she cried out, her hands leaving his hair to slam down onto the mattress as her torso rolled and jerked under his unforgiving ministrations. He continued to work her clit until she was gasping with the overwhelming pleasure and attempting to pull away from him.

"Oh, fuck, ah, ah!" she exclaimed, shocked. Her voice was deep and throaty with desire. He let her clit go with a loud pop before releasing a soft chuckle and nipping and sucking his way up her slender body. Pausing at her breasts, he gently and lovingly gave them some affection after their ruthless mauling earlier in the evening. She mewled and writhed and reached for him, pulling on his biceps. She only calmed when his mouth settled over hers.

 _Passion._ His mind screamed. _She's passionate – have you ever been with someone this passionate?_ He knew the answer, it was no. No, he had never been with someone so passionate. Everything she did, she did with fire – including sex.

Lucius lifted Hermione's hips and lined himself up with her entrance, all the while kissing her. He pulled his face back, though, when he began to push into her. He wanted to see her expression, and it did not disappoint. Her eyes were on is, blazing cinnamon alight with heat and desire. Her eyes widened and rolled up, and her bottom lip caught in her teeth as he claimed her for his own. It was exquisite.

He slid his hands under her back and pulled her up as he sat back on his haunches, changed their position dramatically as he sunk even more deeply inside of her, nudging her cervix.

Her arms came up and encircled his shoulders and her gasp of surprise turned into a guttural moan as her fingernails bit into his deltoids. "Fucking hell, princess," he groaned, letting his hands slide down her back to encircle her small waist. He let her find purchase with her knees on the outside of his thighs before rolling his pelvis into hers, swearing when her muscle tightened around his cock.

"You're a goddess," he breathed into her ear before helping her find a rhythm to satisfy them both. Then he dropped his mouth to her shoulder, nipping at the sensitive flesh, making her head fall to the side as she whimpered.

Hermione's body felt electrified with sensation. Everything that had hurt before positively sang in delight with this man. He guided her hips and his length slid against that spot inside of her that was pure heaven. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and daringly brought her mouth to the underside of his jaw, suckling the skin there the same way he was working his magic over her shoulder and collar bone.

He crushed her more tightly to his chest with an audible grunt at her tender attention, and her nipples rubbed against his chest hair deliciously. She was going to come again. She told him this time.

"I'm so close, please don't stop," she begged. Tears pricked her eyes for entirely different reasons when, instead of answering her, he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her desperately. His hands splayed flat across her upper back and he held their upper bodies still for their oral exploration as their lower bodies desperately mated, seeking release.

She ripped her mouth away from him, needing to breathe as her second climax rolled through her like thunder. "Oh, Lucius!" she sobbed, shocked with the sensations she was feeling. Her whole body trembled almost violently, and she was so distracted by the whole experience, she almost missed the fact that he came with her, grunting as he buried his face in her neck.

Lucius was undone by this witch. What had started out as a way to comfort had turned into something completely unexpected and overwhelming. He hid his emotion and unrest by swallowing his cries of passion and burying his face in the girl's hair as he thrust through their combined orgasms, feeling her muscles grip him at the same time her nails dug into his back and his name fell from her lips.

Desperate to keep himself hidden from her, he slid his hands from her upper back by moving one down around her waist and one up into her hair, pulling her into a tight embrace. He held her while they caught their breath and he took her weight gladly as she melted into him, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

When Lucius calmed, he had every intention of moving Hermione away from him and making an excuse to hide in the bathroom until he could collect his shattered thoughts. Then she surprised him again by pulling away first. She looked at him for the briefest of moments before reaching up and settling her mouth over his.

The kiss was sweet and backed with emotions that were in as much uproar as his own. It helped him relax, and his arms slowly loosened around her. She slipped off of his lap, undoing their joining, and he allowed her to guide them back to laying on the bed. Lucius broke their kiss as he settled onto his back and welcomed her when she curled into him. He didn't even remember falling asleep.

* * *

Hermione's body was singing with the afterglow of their lovemaking, and while Lucius dropped to sleep quickly with her held in his naked embrace, she couldn't seem to calm her mind. She needed to play the piano, ached for it. She had become very attached to the emotional output playing the instrument was giving her.

After carefully extracting herself from his embrace, she moved to pull on a floor length nightgown before wrapping herself in her robe for warmth. Fifteen minutes later, she was seated at the Erard, warming up with scales and trying to decide what she'd like to play. She was even toying with the idea of some modern pop music, but started with the classical that she knew the portraits had come to enjoy. Beethoven being one of her favorite artists, she started the gentle tones of his Sonate Pathetique. The tender mood was set with the double baseline, she loved the constant movement of the right hand in this piece. She found herself humming along with the melody when the piece moved into treble clef and her body started moving along when the steady sixteenth note rhythm took over. Everything calmed again when the piece slid back into double bass. She was truly lost, and even the whispers of the portraits looking for Narcissa to go retrieve Lucius were not heard as the intensity of the piece picked up.

Lucius was only slightly startled to be woken from his heavy, sated sleep by Narcissa calling for him lightly. He rolled, yawning, to find his young bedmate gone. "She's playing?" he asked quietly of his dead wife.

"She is." Narcissa's voice sounded a bit smug and he looked at her questioningly, but could hardly make her out in the darkness of the room. Less than five minutes later, he entered the foyer to silence. Figuring she must be between pieces, he silently conjured a chair and sat in it to await her next decision.

It floored him when she started it, as he recognized it instantly as an insanely difficult piece of music to play – Chopin's _Fantasie Impromptu_. The opening baseline was quickly joined with an allegro treble line that was made up entirely of sixteenth notes. So impressive was the opening display he could hear the portraits talking excitedly from the hallway. How he wished he could watch her play this…he could just imagine the sway and rhythm of her lithe body. Especially as the piece moved into the moderato cantabile section of the piece, slowing and pulling out the melody.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The young woman took his breath sometimes, and this was one of them. The rolling twelve note baseline was flawless and moved fluidly from note to note as the top was played with deep feeling and contentment. He was almost startled when it moved back into the fast and poignant sixteen-note melody that monopolized the upper registers of the keys. The song flowed chromatically through the notes until the decrescendo and ritard pulled one into a lull as the melody was played through the bass hand to the heavy, trilled chord at the very end.

His breathing was short at the beauty of it, even though his body felt relaxed and peaceful. He found himself eagerly awaiting her next piece, but never expected what she was about to give him.

He did not recognize the slow flow through an arpeggiated introduction. But it was when a clear, cool, and pretty voice met his ears, he almost fell out of his seat. There was an audible intake of breath from the portraits, who were obviously as stunned by this turn of events as he was.

 _When your day is long, and the night_  
The night is yours alone.  
When sure you've had enough…  
Of this life…  
Hang on…

Her voice was lovely. Not stage-performance worthy, but nice. A voice that would be easy to be proud of when entertaining guests – clear, on key, and emotive. He found himself wondering if there was anything this girl _couldn't_ do. Once he was able to get over the fact that she was singing, he began to listen to her song choice.

_Sometimes everything is wrong.  
Now it's time to sing along_

_When your day is night alone_   
_If you feel like letting go_   
_If you think you've had too much_   
_Of this life…_   
_Hang on…_

He swallowed hard, realizing she was attempting to comfort herself _. When you think you've had too much of this life…hang on._ Was he giving her enough to hang on to?

He silently cursed Draco again, wishing there was something…anything he could do to convince his son to stop treating her the way he was.

 _'Cause everybody hurts,_  
 _Take comfort in your friends._  
 _Everybody hurts…sometimes_.

_Sometimes…_

When she finished singing, the piano playing paused again. He heard Hermione laughing a bit with the portraits, who were probably complimenting her. He wished again that she would share this with him, he wanted to watch her while she played…while she sang. Lucius sighed when she started another familiar piece of classical music. He had more to think about, her choice of song gave him some things to consider. He was tired, he would leave her in peace to play. Tomorrow was a new day.

* * *

** Beethoven’s Sonate Pathetique  **

<https://youtu.be/iCL5sHzlDOI>

** Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu  **

<https://youtu.be/75x6DncZDgI>

** Inspiration for R.E.M.'s Everybody Hurts: **

Cover by Jasmine Thompson

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWGL3SbhLDQ>  


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Same disclaimer as always. These characters and the magical world they live in belong to JKR and her publishers.**

**LissaDream and I are soo excited to be working on this story again! We had found, well, it was more me than her, but _I_ (Snowblind12 _)_ found I was having a hard time trying to write more than one story at a time. So we finished the first book of Master Mine, then The Affair and then After Happily Ever After. We are finally back to this story and when it's finished, we will move on to the second book of the Master Mine series.**

**We have big plans for this story and there is much more ahead. Same warnings apply, though. Thanks so much to all who read, comment and throw out a kudo!**

**Huge thanks and love to our awesome beta, Raynephoenix2.**

* * *

Hermione shifted in her chair uneasily. She anticipated another visit from Draco at any time and to say she was on edge was a gross understatement. It had been six days since he had so ruthlessly taken her in the presence of Snape and Ginny at dinner the prior Wednesday. Then he had showed up again Saturday afternoon, but unlike other times, he had barely spoken a word to her. He simply stormed into the library and pulled her out of the window seat she was nestled in before flipping her around and lifting her skirt. He was finished and out the door in minutes. Compared to how he had brutalized and humiliated her all the other times, this time had been almost pleasant. It completely surprised her and left her confused. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

If there was one thing predictable about the young bastard it was that he was always sadistic, brutal, and hateful. While she had been relieved and thankful after he left her, now she was left wondering when he would show up and if he would be particularly nasty since he had been so easy on her on Saturday.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Lucius asked as he peered over the corner of the morning paper. "You've barely touched your breakfast. Aren't you hungry?"

Hermione met his gaze and simply shrugged. "I imagine Draco will be arriving today. It has me nervous."

Lucius tossed the paper down while he watched her contemplatively. "I've been thinking about that. I'm going to have the wards alert you whenever he enters the grounds or the house. This way you at least have some warning."

Hermione was surprised. "You can do that? I don't have a wand."

Lucius sipped his tea and put down his cup. "It's not complicated and you don't need a wand. I already have the wards set to notify me when he arrives, or anyone else for that matter."

Hermione pushed her eggs around her plate. "Could you…I mean… would you mind setting the wards to let me know when _you_ arrive as well?" Her voice was quiet and almost shy. She didn't sound like herself. She chanced a glance at him and found his expression one of surprise. Not wanting there to be any misunderstanding, she clarified. "It's…it's because I feel safer when you're around. I just like knowing you are here."

Hermione didn't notice his heavy swallow and she had no way of knowing the impact of her words on her older captor. Guilt, frustration, and no small sprinkling of pleasure washed over him as he leaned back in his chair watching her.

Guilt for being her keeper, guilt for what he was required to do to her on a regular basis, and huge guilt for enjoying it.

Frustration that there was truly nothing he could do without putting himself or Draco in danger.

Pleasure that, despite everything, she wanted him around. How was that even possible? Sure, he didn't _beat_ her and _brutalize_ her and, yes, they had enjoyed some pleasurable moments…in and out of bed…but regardless, she should hate him. She certainly shouldn't _like_ knowing he was around.

He watched as her caramel eyes darted quick peeks in his direction. Her bottom lip was sucked into the caresses of her sweet mouth. He noticed a slight flush creep deliciously up her neck and over her face, leaving her cheeks with a rosy glow. Almost like she was embarrassed. _Could she be growing to care for me?_ No, it was ridiculous. He was old enough to be her father. She was merely doing as she had said; she was making the best of her situation and not fighting what she couldn't change. That included him.

He cleared his throat gently, finally answering the lingering request. "Yes, I can arrange that for you as well."

Her lip was promptly relieved from its confinement as she quickly turned to him and smiled – and it was genuine. He knew it was. Sure, he had seen her smile and even laugh a few times, but it was a rare thing. Many times, it didn't reach her eyes. This time, however, was one of those disarming smiles… it caused his breath to hitch. When it started to fade as her attention moved back to her plate and she picked up her fork, another idea came to him.

After a quick glance about the room, he said lightly, "I will promise you this as well. If I'm away from the manor when he arrives, I'll come back promptly and check to be sure you are alright. Run interference if he gets too – "

She looked back at him, her relief and surprise rendering her unable to stop herself from interrupting him, "You will?"

He let out a heavy sigh before leaning back with a nod. His words were contemplative. "I regret he does not listen to me as he used to, and my words seem to have little to no impact on him lately." He swallowed. "You see, there is a hereditary…" He stopped himself. No, he wouldn't tell her. She might say something to Draco and nothing good could come of that. "Never mind."

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and took his hand which was resting on the table. "Thank you, Lucius."

The touch of affection startled him, and his eyes shot to her small and delicate hand.

Realizing her touch had been impertinent and probably not wanted, Hermione quickly pulled her fingers away and grabbed her juice for a distraction and to hide her small flash of embarrassment. Desperate to get past the awkward moment, she asked a question which had been puzzling her. "Lucius, why was Draco not in school these past weeks? It's July first today, right? Shouldn't he have just graduated?"

Still reeling from her touch and despite its brevity, pondering the loss, Lucius sipped his coffee to reground himself. After a brief pause, he answered, "The Dark Lord instructed Severus to allow Draco to skip school. He has barely attended since the battle in May. Instead, he took his NEWTs early and has been focusing on tasks for the Dark Lord." Hermione didn't miss the disappointment in his voice.

"Oh," she whispered, unable to contain her overwhelming frustration and jealousy. Draco was allowed to take his NEWTs, whereas she had spent her seventh year on the run. Now she was a bonded slave and would likely never graduate from school, much less take her exams. She felt ridiculous for caring at this point, but she did.

Lucius could see it on her face. He didn't need to be in her mind to know exactly what she was thinking. He hated to add insult to injury, but it was best her told her now. "Actually, there will be a graduation party here at the manor in a couple weeks. It will also be the next Death Eater induction ceremony. Several of Draco's friends will be here and will be sworn into the Dark Lord's service."

Her chocolate eyes flew to his grey. "Please tell me I won't have to attend! I couldn't bear it. Watching Draco and his friends strut around, feeling oh so important and self-righteous in their _ridiculous_ servitude. Not to mention, freshy graduated and with their entire happy lives before them." Hermione cringed at the spite and jealousy of her words. She should have kept that to herself.

She looked down at her lap and took a deep breath before adding, barely above a whisper, "Sorry, that was…petty." After a second she peeked up at him again before looking back down at her napkin, mindlessly picking at a loose thread as she clarified, "It's just… _nothing_ , save my friends and family, meant more to me than my education. I worked so hard to stay at the top of my year. To know that…to know that someone like Pansy Parkinson, who merely scraped by in her classes, will be a graduate and I won't." She made a disgusted sound. "It's just so unfair."

Lucius watched her thoughtfully as she took an angry sip from her juice after her outburst. His words were slow and cautious. "Perhaps…perhaps there is a way. I will have to talk to Severus…and the Dark Lord, of course." He took a quick look around, finding only his mother present amongst the portraits this morning. He kept his voice low, all the same. "Perhaps Severus could tutor you on what you missed your final year."

Hermione had perked up instantly with his words and where he was obviously headed with his thought process. She interrupted excitedly. "I've actually read all the seventh-year course material. I think…if I could merely have a little time to review…"

He held his hand up, causing her to stop talking. "I don't wish to give you false hope, Hermione, but perhaps if I went to the Dark Lord and told him you were becoming more…compliant and suggestable and that you had finally understood that it was best to accept the new ways of the world rather than fight it… Perhaps if I told him that what would push you over the edge to compliance would be permission to take your NEWTs… Well, he might allow it."

He added quickly, "However, we will have to work on your acting skills. He needs to believe you are coming around…and I shall have to start your Occlumency training."

She was practically bouncing in her seat. "Oh, Lucius! Would you? Oh, Merlin. Do you think it's possible?"

He could see the wheels of her mind spinning and had to resist the chortle that was threatening to erupt.

Her eyes were alight with a new sparkle he had not witnessed before when with complete earnest she added, "I'll work really hard on Occlumency – starting today. I'm sure your library has books on it. I'll start studying…after breakfast."

He smiled indulgently at her. "Yes, that would be a very good way to spend your time." He thought he heard what sounded like a disappointed sigh from behind him but, when he turned, all he saw was his mother's portrait. He shook it off. His mother hadn't spoken in over ten years, surely it hadn't been her. He looked around once again, confirming their conversation hadn't been overheard by anyone faithful to the Dark Lord.

"Oh, I can't wait! I can't eat anymore. May I be excused to start my research?"

This time he did laugh. "Of course. You know where you are going?"

"Yes, thank you. Thank you, Lucius!" He was stunned stiff when she leapt out of her chair and flung her arms around him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Before he could snap out of it and react, she was flouncing out of the dining room with a huge smile on her face.

* * *

Lucius shifted uncomfortably as he made his way into Lestrange Villa, nodding his greetings to two lower-ranking Death Eaters who were guarding the entrance. It had been over a month since Voldemort had called a meeting of his inner circle – which he only belonged to because of his monetary value at this point. It had surprised Lucius when his Mark burned just as he had arrived at Malfoy Enterprises, a Tuesday afternoon summons was very much an oddity.

He entered the vast dining room and couldn't stop from glancing up at the cobwebbed chandeliers lit with stubby candles. The Villa hadn't been used in over two decades as Bellatrix had preferred their London Townhouse or Malfoy Manor to meet her comforts. Now that Narcissa was gone, and Lucius out of favor with the Dark Lord, Bellatrix had voiced her unwillingness to stay at Malfoy Manor (much to Lucius' delight) and had offered her husband's ancestral home to the tyrant. It appeared that it was taking longer than she had thought for the house elves to get the place in order. He wondered off-handedly if there were any house elves in the house who did not have scarred ears from frequent ironing.

Letting his gaze drift away from the dust and debris, Lucius took in the people who were sitting at the ancient, dark wood table. Voldemort was not yet present, but Snape, Bellatrix, and both Lestrange brothers took the four seats immediately to the left and right of the head of the table. Snape being on their Master's left and Bella on his right. Both were places of high honor and Lucius had sat there once upon a time. It was a title he had claimed with pride – now he found himself almost grateful to be just less than halfway down the table. He garnered much less attention in his new seat.

"Malfoy," Snape greeted upon seeing him and Lucius nodded politely in return. He took his place between Shafiq senior and Nott junior, acknowledging MacNair and Rowle across from him with a slight tip of his head.

Lucius couldn't help the growing curiosity of his son's mission when the seat next to him remained vacant past the allotted time of arrival. So deep in thought was he, that he didn't pay attention to or join any of the murmured conversations around him. He was startled out of his musings when his brothers and sisters stood at Voldemort's entrance, automatically standing himself.

Once the Dark Lord took his seat, Lucius followed suit with the rest of his brethren. He listened with half an ear as Voldemort discussed the puppets at the Ministry with the Death Eaters responsible for its control. Unwillingly, he found his thoughts turning towards a certain curly-haired brunette who was continuing to turn his world upside down.

An undetermined amount of time later, Lucius was startled when Dolohov was called to the head of the table.

"As you all know, my loyal subjects, is that Antonin is a fine spell creator. After the war was won and that insolent Potter boy put down, I set him to a task. This task was to create a spell to measure the magical ability of a witch or wizard. He has successfully completed his assignment. His job now will be to test all Muggle-born captives and blood traitors. Only those who score high enough on the Magical Potency Scale will be allowed life. Those who score below the average witch or wizard will be terminated. Those who score above the average witch or wizard will have a much more…meaningful…life task to serve me."

Here the man paused, and Lucius had to suppress a shudder as his red gaze slid over those in his service. "Antonin, you may briefly explain."

Dolohov took a sure step forward and raised a small glass sphere. "This is a crystalized Elvin sphere. When the charm I created is aimed at it, the magical qualities of the Elvin glass collects and compresses the magic which then leaves a Potency Signature. It is a color scale, ranging from purple to pure white. My Lord has decided to call it the Magical Potency Scale, or MPS." The Russian man immediately took a step back, bowing to Voldemort.

"I will demonstrate," Voldemort purred, a wicked gleam in his eye. Dolohov nodded curtly and placed the sphere in his hand before his Lord on the table. Lucius watched with narrowed eyes as Voldemort made a double figure eight with his wand before hissing the incantation, "Magica Potentia!"

Many people at the table jumped, startled as a blast of crackly blue light shattered the room when the Charm hit the Elvin glass. The blaze dissipated quickly and left in the sphere was a rolling wave of dirtiest white with red at the edges. "Explain the scale," Voldemort demanded, his expression gleeful.

Dolohov quickly explained the MPS, which was a rainbow scale that started at cool colors and ended with brightest white. The darker the color, the more potent the witch or wizard on that aspect of the color scale. The most potent person tested thus far was the Dark Lord, himself, blazing red around a dirty white. Lucius' face darted over those of his brother's and sister's. Snape looked exceptionally intrigued and Lucius knew that Snape, like himself, would likely test his own Magical Potency at his soonest convenience just out of pure curiosity. It was a remarkable Charm.

"Antonin will begin testing all captives soon, as our holding cells are full to bursting and we need to clear the riff-raff that has no usefulness in our society," Voldemort said with a lazy wave of dismissiveness over the poor conditions of the Muggleborns. "Those of you who have captives that are still functioning will take a sphere and a copy of the Scale in order to test your captives. Make sure they use their own wand, which you should have in your possession unless they were damaged beyond repair. If this is the case, let Antonin know. A compatible wand is imperative to test true magical ability. You will label the sphere with their name and send it to Antonin here at Lestrange Villa."

There was a murmur of understanding. "Luciusss," he hissed unexpectedly. Lucius was able to keep his face smooth, even as his heartrate accelerated.

"Yes, My Lord," he answered with a regal tip to his head.

"You will stay."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Severusss, you will also stay."

"My Lord." The dark-haired man's agreement was clear in his statement.

"The rest are dismissed." Voldemort once again flippantly waved his hand with an air of boredom.

It took longer than normal for the room to clear as many had to stop with Antonin at the sideboard to be given a sphere and a piece of parchment. Lucius joined the queue with Snape to collect the supplies he would need to test Hermione. Once everyone had left, Snape returned to his chair and Voldemort motioned for Lucius to take the now vacant seat to his right.

"How is Potter's Mudblood?"

"She is … as well as can be expected, My Lord," Lucius stated carefully. He briefly made eye contact with Snape and found that, as always, his friend's face was stoic and devoid of all emotion.

"Explain your meaning," Voldemort demanded.

"She seems to be … opening … to me. I have allowed her use of the library and a few of the recreational rooms. She has not made another attempt to take her own life, although that could be because I used the bond to force her compliance."

For the first time ever, Lucius saw Snape lose his composure in front of Voldemort. "Granger attempted suicide?" It was a flat statement, but the surprise…and perhaps a bit of panic?... was evident in his black eyes very briefly before his mask of indifference slipped back into place.

Voldemort had been watching Lucius while Lucius had been watching Snape and he had missed the slight emotional slip from the younger of the two men. Lucius was legitimately curious. "That surprises you, Severus? A girl – a virgin girl, nonetheless – has been raped repeatedly and tortured by two of the men she has most reviled. Don't you think she would prefer to die?"

Severus let a nonchalant shrug roll off his shoulders. "She never did seem the type before – I would have pegged her as stronger."

"Interesting…" Voldemort trailed off momentarily before turning his scrutiny back to Lucius. "Why do you think she did it? Severus knows the girl fairly well. He's had ample time to learn her character. Her attempt to take her own life was…obviously…out of said character."

Lucius took a brief moment to collect his thoughts before answering carefully. "I believe the loss of everyone she cares about is at the core of her depression, Master. However, it is my son's treatment of her that torments her so. Perhaps, my Lord, if you suggested Draco be…for lack of a better word…kinder to her…" He trailed off at the look of incredulity on Voldemort's face and hastened to explain himself. "My roses are working better then Draco's … numerous … thorns. However, the boy is strong willed and unwilling to treat her with any modicum of … kindness. Honestly, even complete indifference would be better then what he does to the Mudblood."

He paused to swallow his uncertainty as Voldemort continued to look at him with thinly veiled disgust at his suggestion. _What were you thinking? Stupid, stupid man._ "My Lord," he quickly attempted to finish his explanation. "You did say 'roses or thorns, it matters not'. I am finding the roses are much more to her liking. The thorns cause her anger – and wandless magic outbreaks – and increased depression and thoughts of self-harm. My treatment has allowed me to gain a bit of her trust." Just to be sure his ruse was believed, he offered a small and malicious smile as he added, "I might have given the chit reason to suspect I actually care for her well-being. She in turn has latched onto me like Devils Snare."

Across the table, Snape narrowed his eyes appraisingly at him, but Voldemort's expression had smoothed by the end of his clarification. The next words had Lucius shoulders relaxing marginally with relief.

"Allow Draco his fun, Lucius," Voldemort said somewhat dismissively. "He's been providing hours of stimulation for the recruits, you know. He is quite the performer." Lucius saw a muscle near one of Snape's eye twitch at the mention of "the recruits" being entertained and he knew Voldemort's words must be true. Snape was called to their Master's side much more frequently than he was – he was bound to know what was going on at Headquarters.

Lucius felt sick pooling in his throat. Hermione would be horrified to know that Draco's memories of her rape, torture, degradation, and humiliation were being used in such a fashion. He resigned himself to not telling her – it would be better for her state of mind. He pushed the thought away and moved to his next delicate topic.

"I have come across a way to, perhaps, gain more of her confidence, My Lord," Lucius started cautiously. Voldemort nodded for him to continue. "She recently mentioned how…sad," here he smirked, pretending he didn't care the least about her feelings, "she is not to have been able to take her NEWT examinations this spring. Perhaps this is something we could arrange? A show of good faith for her cooperation?"

Lucius half expected Voldemort to torture him on the spot for even suggesting letting a Mudblood earn Wizarding credentials, but the man just gave him another of his terrible smiles. "You are getting ahead of my plans, my dear Lucius. Tell the girl I will think on it. Now tell me…has Potter's Mudblood displayed anymore wandless magic since the last?"

At this, Snape's eyebrows rose in intrigue and he interjected. "You were serious about the wandless magic then, Lucius?" he drawled in his deep baritone. "How…interesting. I wouldn't have thought she would have it in her."

Voldemort turned another terrible smile on his favorite Death Eater. "Nor would I, Severus. However, it seems she is quite the anomaly. Lucius – your answer?"

"No, My Lord," Lucius answered. "She is under strict orders not to use it."

"That will change very soon." Lucius was hard pressed to suppress a shudder of revulsion at the excited gleam in the despot's red eyes.

"My Lord?" He didn't understand the implications.

"Did you know that Severus is very well versed in wandless magic?" Voldemort had extracted his own bone-white wand, twirling it in his fingers menacingly.

"I was aware, My Lord." Lucius tried his best to keep his stare off the weapon and at a point just to the left of Voldemort's face. He exchanged another quick glance with Snape.

"You will train the Mudblood, Severus," he commanded. "Lure her. Seduce her to the dark arts and all the powers and delights it can bestow. Her thirst for knowledge and desire to prove herself can be used to our advantage."

"Yes, My Lord," Snape responded automatically.

Lucius was not about to argue, even though he didn't understand why Voldemort would want someone on the opposite side of the war trained with such a weapon – for any reason. The girl would never be turned, of that he had no doubt. Even though he had her agreement on acting the part for the time being, she would never – ever – belong to Voldemort. She would die first, he was sure of it.

"That is all. Leave me," Voldemort dismissed him abruptly and both Severus and Lucius stood, both pocketing his sphere and parchment.

"Good day, My Lord." Lucius bowed low, and Snape mimicked him, but Voldemort did not acknowledge either of them any further. They escaped the room quickly.

* * *

Hermione was in the library, nose deep in _'Mindful Magic',_ when she felt the warm flush start from her toes and brush all the way to the top of her head. It was an odd feeling, one that Lucius told her she would get used to. The wards had just notified her Lucius was home and there was no denying the relief she felt. Hopefully, Draco would stay away another evening. She looked at the antique Grandfather clock to check the time. It felt like she had just started reading, yet it was just after five-o'clock. Where had the time gone? Looking to her left, she spotted the books she still had not opened. There simply weren't enough hours in the day.

"I thought I'd find you in here," Lucius said with a small smirk as he walked towards the table where she had all her books spread out before her. "Have you found anything of use?"

Hermione offered him a small smile in return. "Nothing so far. Lots of books about famous Legilimens and Occlumense, as well discussions about morality. I found out about a possession spell that works much like Polyjuice. I'd never heard of it. It's certainly not mentioned in any of the Hogwarts books."

Lucius looked around the room. "This library is not confined only to books suitable for children, Hermione. Hogwarts has a wonderful library, but it's very limited in what it provides."

Hermione scoffed. "The only thing not suitable for young minds is Dark Magic. Imagine what a better world we would live in if Dark Magic didn't exist."

"That, my dear, is a discussion for another day." He looked her up and down. "Did you eat lunch today?"

Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't hungry."

Lucius looked down his aristocratic nose and said simply, "You will eat everything on your plate tonight."

Hermione immediately coiled to react with the words to remind him of his promise to not order her around on the tips of her lips before he added, "You will need your strength for a test you will perform after dinner."

She froze. "A test?"

He sighed. "A test to determine how magically powerful you are."

Hermione stared at him. "There is no such test."

Lucius started to walk away. "There is now."

Hermione stared dumbfounded at the retreating wizard's back as he left the library. How could he drop something like that on her lap and just walk away! _A test?_ _**A TEST?!**_ her inner mind shrieked. She fell back into her chair. "Well, fuck."

After a moment to regain her senses, Hermione placed the books she was finished with on the table Lucius had told her would magically re-shelve everything. The rest of the books she set aside for her later perusal. Right now, she needed to find that insufferable man and have him explain.

* * *

Lucius left the library quickly and made his way to his study before slamming and warding the door. He knew she had questions, the problem was he just didn't have the answers. He didn't know what to think. He wanted her to test well, well enough to be deemed worthy to live, certainly, but what would it mean for everyone if she tested better than that? What did the Dark Lord have planned? Would she be taken away from him?

He immediately walked to his side bar and poured a whisky. He downed it quickly and poured another. He couldn't tell her that her very life could depend on the result of _one_ test. Did the test even work? Dolohov was very creative at spell and curse development, but this was…this was unheard of!

He sat behind his desk, the beginnings of a massive headache taking hold. Common sense would dictate the test would not only be limited to captives. How long until the Death Eaters were tested? The general population? His stomach clenched with anxiety. Draco. How would Draco test? The madness… Lucius was certain the boy was going mad. How would that impact his magic?

His musings were interrupted by a light tap on his door. He looked up, determined to ignore her.

Hermione stared at the door to his study. She knocked a second time. _Oh, you awful man! Why won't you answer?_ She cleared her throat. "Lucius? Please open the door! I know you are in there! Bilby told me!"

She pressed her ear to the door, listening for movement.

Silence.

She felt herself begin to panic. "Lucius, please."

Lucius' eyes shot up to the door at that last plea. She sounded on the verge of tears. _Fuck._ Swallowing down the rest of his whisky, he waved his wand at the door, causing it to open.

Their eyes met; his from behind his desk, hers from just outside the door. He sighed heavily. "Come in, Hermione, and I'll tell you what I know."

Hermione entered guardedly. She could tell by Lucius' behavior the man was concerned. Question was, was he concerned on her behalf? His own? Or was his trepidation not related to what he had told her?

Lucius stood and moved around his desk, gesturing towards one of the wingback chairs before the hearth. Hermione sat and watched him as he walked to the side bar and poured something from one of the decanters into a port glass. He then approached her, handing her the glass. "It's elven berry wine. It's delicious."

When he sat across from her in the matching wingback chair, she took a swallow and quickly glanced at the glass in surprise. "Wow, that really is good," she mumbled, more to herself than to Lucius.

When she looked back up at him, he decided the best way was to just tell her the facts. "I met with the Dark Lord today and he has determined that all captives will have their magical ability tested utilizing a spell to be cast upon a charmed item." Before she could interrupt him, he spoke louder, heading her off at the pass. "It is a new Charm, we learned of it only today. It was developed by one of his more…creative…Death Eaters. I believe you're familiar with Antonin Dolohov?"

Hermione immediately reached up to her chest as she gave a curt nod. The scar that wizard had cursed her with was almost completely gone now. If it had not been for a special healer Madam Pomfrey had consulted from Russia, it would still be red and irritated _. Madam Pomfrey._ Was she still alive?

She was pulled back from the errant thought when Lucius continued talking. He went on to tell her everything the despot had said. About the magical test as well as Severus teaching her how to make use of her wandless magic.

She was stunned. "He wants me to strengthen and learn to use my wandless magic?" Lucius didn't answer her, he simply stared. "Why?"

Lucius stood and headed back to the side bar to pour himself another whisky. He made it a small one. After swallowing it down, he turned back to her. "I don't know. I can only…guess."

"Guess, then"

Lucius glanced about the room and, after determining neither his father or any other untrustworthy subjects were present in their portraits, he continued. "I told him I was making headway with you. That my roses were getting through to you better than Draco's thorns."

Hermione cringed. Is that what Lucius was doing? Simply being kind to her to sway her? No. She didn't believe that.

"I also told him that if you were allowed to take your NEWTs you would likely be even more agreeable."

Hermione swallowed heavily. "What did he say?"

"He said I was getting ahead of what he had planned. I can only assume he is not opposed to the idea." After a brief pause, the blond continued, "I don't know why he trusts you with such an ability, Hermione. He wouldn't allow it if he didn't think he could control you. I have a feeling that how you test tonight will likely play into everything."

"Give me the worst-case scenario."

"You test abysmally, and he determines you aren't worth the air you the breath. You'll likely be locked up with Penelope Clearwater in the Hogwarts dungeons where you will stay until the start of term." Hermione winced at his flat tone and Lucius swallowed heavily. He had not meant for that to come out quite so harshly.

His hand moved to his face and his index finger stroked his bottom lip. He held another concern – it was a long shot, but a concern all the same. What if she tested off the charts? What if she tested so high that Voldemort feared he and Draco couldn't control her once she was trained? Where would he send her? Whom would he bond her to? She had asked for the worst-case scenario and Lucius cringed inwardly as it came unbidden to his thoughts. He had to swallow the bile as it crept up his throat. _No, surely not!_ he thought, but the visual of the Dark Lord pistoning between her thighs wouldn't be erased from his mind.

 _That_ was a possibility he would _not_ share with her.

"Can I practice?"

"No. It's a one and done test." He could see the panic washing over her. "Hermione, it is exceedingly unlikely you will test poorly. You and I both know you are a strong witch."

"But what if I mess up? What if something goes wrong? What if I fail miserably?"

"Then we'll cross that bridge when it happens."

Hermione stilled. That was a reasonable answer. She needed to get herself under control and not panic.

Lucius stood and held his hand out to her to assist her to her feet as well. "Come. Let's eat in my suite tonight."

* * *

Lucius had told Hermione to dress comfortably for dinner and that she could wear whatever would make her feel the most like herself. Ignoring the formal midnight blue dress Tinny had laid out for her earlier, she pulled jeans out of the dresser and dug around for a light sweater. It was July, but the Manor was rather drafty and cool, especially at night. She found a Weird Sisters t-shirt and slipped it on before grabbing a simple, black, cable knit cardigan out of her closet. Shuffling through what must have been fifty pairs of shoes and boots, she found some trainers and put them on.

She looked in the mirror and was happy that see her old self looking back. _See? You're still you, despite everything._

She walked with a touch of trepidation towards the secret entrance that separated her suite from the Master. She couldn't help the fear that whatever Voldemort had planned for her was directly tied to how she performed on this damned test. It had to mean something. Why else would they bother with testing her? Was tonight the beginning of a new hell? Adding to her concern was the fact that Draco hadn't made an appearance yet. It would be soon, probably tonight.

As she approached the hidden entrance, it once again opened automatically for her. Lucius stepped inside from his balcony when she arrived. "I'm glad you wore a sweater. It's so beautiful tonight, I thought we could eat on my balcony."

Hermione nodded her ascent and followed him back outside. She was stunned still at the vision before her. It was just getting dark and the sky was a sapphire blue, the table was set for two but formally. There were candles and a white table cloth. An arrangement of freshly bloomed assorted roses from the one of the Malfoy gardens adorned as a centerpiece. It was awfully… _romantic_. She felt herself stiffen slightly. A flush of confusion washed over her. She knew she should be repulsed, he was her captor – her rapist – not her lover. But he was also…her friend? Her protector? And he had kissed her! In fact, they had shared many kisses over the last handful of days. _Oh, what does this mean?_

The sound of Lucius clearing his throat pulled her focus from the table setting and her befuddlement to the wizard standing next to her. "The elves, they are setting the table the way Narcissa had instructed them whenever we dined out here. I haven't dined out here since she..."

"Ahh," Hermione replied, understanding completely. "It's lovely." _Why do I feel.. disappointed? No. That can't be._

Lucius held her chair out for her. "I enjoy summer evenings. It's nice to be outside when the weather permits. We can cast a warming charm if it becomes too cool."

Hermione offered him a small smile as a way of response, noticing he was once again wearing jeans as well. As he pulled out her chair and she peeked up at him to offer thanks, she noticed his navy pullover sweater caused his normally hard, steel grey eyes to change to a smoldering gunmetal blue. After they were seated, she almost couldn't look away when the moon peeked out from behind a cloud and those same orbs changed to an arctic icy blue. He really was a beautiful man. She swallowed and quickly flicked her gaze to over his shoulder when his eyes danced to hers, clearly sensing her obvious staring.

Tinny and Bilby appeared with their covered plates as well as a decanter of wine and warm bread with butter. When everything was on the table, Lucius softly commanded, "Bilby, you may leave. Tinny, please stay for a moment."

Bilby left with a quick pop of Apparition, leaving Tinny behind. "Yes, Master Lucius, sir?" Tinny bowed reverently but even Hermione could sense the tingle of concern in the elf's voice.

"Tinny, the reason I asked you to stay is because I wish to inform you that you are no longer restricted in regard to conversation with Miss Granger. You are allowed to be her friend if that is what you would like. Furthermore, Draco was very wrong in how he treated you. You are an exceptional house elf, Tinny. You do your job impeccably well and are an asset to the House of Malfoy. If Draco ever, in any way, attempts to physically punish you or harm you, I demand you Apparate away immediately and find me. If you ever feel that Miss Granger is in serious danger from either Draco or any other force or being, come to me straight away. These orders supersede any that you receive from anyone else. Lastly, I wish to apologize for what happened that day at Draco's hand. What he did to you was unconscionable and will not be tolerated." He paused and then added, "Do you have any questions?"

Tinny's eyes were wide and her ears were twitching. "No sirs, Master sir. Tinny is proud and honored to serve. Tinny will watch over good witch and comes get Master if Miss is in dangers of being hurts."

"Thank you, Tinny, that will be all for now."

After Tinny Apparated away with her signature pop, Lucius spread his napkin across his lap as he peeked at Hermione. There it was again. That smile. That smile that left him breathless. How easy it was to make this witch happy. Education, books...allowing conversation with a house elf. So simple. No diamonds, no grand trips or new wardrobes from the finest fashion houses in Paris and Milan. No. Just books and friendship.

Her voice trembled slightly. "Thank you, Lucius."

The lids to their platters disappeared when Bilby popped back in and lit the candles. It was now dark. The skies were clear, the stars were bright, and Hermione felt a moment of peace. When she looked down and saw a plate full of perfectly seared scallops over a bed of asparagus drizzled with a lemon creme sauce, she couldn't hold back. In a flash she was out of her chair, and for the second time that day, threw her arms around the Malfoy patriarch, kissing his cheek and whispering words of thanks.

* * *

Hermione looked at the parchment Lucius had handed her with her heart thumping nervously in her chest. The incantation and wand movement were very simple, almost basic. Part of her felt like – _What's the catch?_ The other part of her realized that it needed to be simple if it were going to test the magical potency of everyone: old, young, experienced, inexperienced, masters, scholars, students, etc.

She found the scoring fascinating, if a little hard to fully decipher. She would have preferred a number scale. Numbers were no-nonsense. Instead she reread the color scale.

 _**Magical Potency Scale** _ _  
_ _**Purple** _ _– Very Poor Potency (VPP)  
_ _**Blue** _ _– Poor Potency (PP)  
_ _**Green** _ _– Low Potency (LP)  
_ _**Yellow** _ _– Average Potency (AP)  
_ _**Orange** _ _– Above Average Potency (AAP)  
_ _**Red** _ _– High Potency (HP)  
_ _**White** _ _– Fierce Potency (FP)_

 _*Shades on each level range from pastel to jewel tones.  
*Witches and wizards who exceed one level, but do not fully fall into the next will have a ring of the jewel tone of the lower level around a pastel of the next level.  
*Wand movements – double figure eight.  
*Incantation – "_ Magica Potentia _"_

Lucius had told her that Voldemort's rating had been the deepest of reds around a greyish center. Making his scoring between HP and FP. She sighed before turning to watch Lucius. He was standing at the balcony with his arms crossed behind his back as he stared at the horizon. The sun was just visible over the Earth, in minutes it would be gone.

"What did you score?" she asked. She knew her voice had been loud enough, even though he didn't react. It was a few seconds before he answered.

"I haven't been tested yet."

"Why not?" She tilted her head with her question, still staring at the parchment while absentmindedly practicing the wand movement with a butter knife.

"We weren't told to." He turned to face her with his simple answer and she found the light smirk on his face very pleasant.

"Aren't you curious?" It didn't matter how apprehensive she was, she was still insanely excited to see where she fell on the scale. Lucius had said that Dolohov had explained to those picking up the crystals that most wizards and witches who had been tested fell into the bright yellow to bright orange categories – or the average potency levels.

"Very curious," he answered seriously. "But, alas. There is only one crystal, and you are to be tested tonight."

"Duplicate it," she suggested and was amused when he froze in surprise at the prompt.

"I don't know if it will work," he stated finally.

"Won't hurt anything to try," she replied with a shrug. Then she paused before asking hesitantly, "Will I be using your wand?" Truthfully, this made her more nervous than anything. She didn't know how she could test to her full potential without a compatible wand. Merlin only knew where her vine wand had disappeared to.

"No." The word was said flatly, and she flinched slightly at the implication she was not good enough to be trusted with his wand. Whether or not he had meant it that way, she did not ask, and she turn her eyes from his cool features to the parchment once again.

"You will be using this wand." She looked up and gasped when he drew her intricately carved wand out of his sleeve and handed it out to her. Her wand… _hers_. The one that had chosen her at Ollivanders. It took a substantial amount of energy not to burst into tears at the sight of it. As it was, she held out one trembling hand. A deep-seated feeling of disappointment washed over her when he moved it back out of her reach. She looked up to him, eyes full of questions and guarded longing.

"I know we have come to an agreement, Hermione," he said gently. "I want you to know that I trust you – I trust you to honor the verbal promise we made to each other." His own expression was wary, and she realized that Lucius Malfoy found her a worthy adversary and was nervous about returning her wand…weapon…to her.

"I understand what you are saying, Lucius," she answered calmly. "I thank you for your trust, it is not misplaced."

She could see he was at war with himself. Would he trust her? Give her the wand with no commands? Or would he command her to complete the test and hand it back to him instantly? What did she _want_ him to do? Did she mean it when she said she would honor their agreement? Or would she take the wand from him and try to escape?

Even as he hesitantly handed the little wooden stick over to her, Hermione did not have an answer to any of her questions. However, the moment she enclosed her fingers over the handle of her wand, she knew she would not flee. For to flee would be to see him hurt – tortured – maybe even killed. She knew she would never forgive herself if this mercurial and contrary man ended up dead because of her.

The warmth of magic that spread through her fingers and up her arm made her lids flutter shut with elation. For the first time in over two months, she felt whole. When she opened her eyes again, Lucius was staring at her with his own eyes full of understanding. She remembered that he, too, had been without a wand for many months at the end of the war. He must know exactly how she was feeling.

"May I please practice a few spells before I complete this…test?" she requested formally. He nodded, his gaze flicking between her own and the pretty stick of wood in her hand.

Lucius watched her conjure water to wet the few plants that sat on his balcony before she flicked her wrist to transfigure the pots from grey to red. Another swish of her wand and birds exploded from the end of it. They twittered happily around her head before flying off into the now deep indigo sky. Hermione looked utterly elated to be holding her wand again – and he didn't blame her.

Slowly, he watched her walk back to the table where the small, crystal sphere sat looking at normal as any paperweight. "Shall we duplicate it, so you can do this, too?"

Lucius thought for a moment before giving a nod. "Try it," he agreed. A couple small wand movements later and an identical sphere sat next to the original.

"You go first?" she whispered, and he could hear her nervousness laced through the three simple words.

"I will," he agreed. He took the duplicated sphere and moved it to the other end of the table, wanting to make sure the spell would not hit the crystal that they absolutely needed for her. He wasn't a hundred percent sure that all the charms of the Elvin glass would transfer with a duplication spell. He didn't hesitate, he moved his wand quickly in the two figure eight motions and growled the incantation. "Magica Potentia!"

He heard her startled squeak as the sphere collected his power, the white light and blue crackling lightening exploded on the balcony, causing them both to shield their eyes. When it dissipated, they were both left staring at a deep, blood red ball. Pride surged through him fiercely, and he couldn't help the smug grin as their eyes clashed. His glowing with smugness and hers wide with wonder.

"Now you, princess." The endearment slipped out without his permission, and he had to hold back a smirk as it caused a pretty blush to flush her cheeks.

"Right," she answered, giving a determined little nod. This time when the spell was cast, Lucius shut his eyes immediately, not wanting to be blinded by the white light again. When he opened them a few short moments later, he had to hold back a curse of surprise.

Hermione's eyes were wide, as if she didn't believe what the sphere was telling her. After a split second more, Lucius couldn't help the slow grin that crossed his face. He wasn't sure why he had been surprised. He already knew she was more powerful than him – she could do wandless magic while he could not.

He stepped around the table and picked up the Elvin glass, turning it this way and that to admire the deepest red color – darker than his; as dark as Voldemort's – surrounding a marble sized ball of pure white light.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello readers! We are so, so thrilled to be back writing this story and having all you lovely people respond. Thank you for all your reviews, we read every single one of them!
> 
> We a going to ask our Draco fans to hold their breath. Don't let this chapter, or the next handful of chapters push you away. Draco's character is developing slowly. We beg you to stay on board with us. Our followers know that we are not ones to give our plot away, so that is all we're going to stay. Please, trust us. 
> 
> So much love to all of you! ~Lissa & Snow

 

* * *

Chapter Sixteen  
BETA SHOUTOUT to the amazing RaynePhoenix2!!! We love you!

* * *

 

Lucius could hear Hermione in his shower while he stood at his desk staring at the two Elvin crystals from the night before. He knew he had to send her crystal off today, or he would be summoned and punished for his lack of obedience. However, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to send the little ball of glass that would tell the Dark Lord that the Mudblood in his care was possibly more powerful than Lord Voldemort himself.

He was unsure how exactly to interpret her results. The ball of white light was much, much smaller than the Dark Lord’s ring of dirty white light had been. The sphere itself was the size of an orange, and Voldemort’s ring of grey had been the size of a Snitch inside it, while Hermione’s pure white light was only the size of a marble. He could guess what the size differences meant – but was unsure of how to interpret the color differences.

Why was Hermione’s light brilliant white, while the Dark Lord’s was greyer? Did that mean Hermione was more powerful than his Master? Or was Voldemort more powerful because his whitish light was larger?

Most importantly, however, what would the Dark Lord require of Hermione – a Muggle-born with such immense power? It made him uncomfortable to realize he feared for the girl. The vision of her being taken from him was torturing him. He closed his eyes and dragged in deep, even breaths to try and calm the racing of his heart. He heard the water turn off and instantly knew what he needed to do.

Picking up the duplicate sphere, the one that held _his_ results, Lucius etched _Hermione Granger_ into the bottom of it with his wand before dropping it in the small box and tapping it with his wand to seal. Setting the parcel in his “Out” tray, he watched from the corner of his eye for it to disappear while he glanced around the room at the portraits. Narcissa and his mother were present, not that it mattered. Not one portrait in the house had seen them cast the charms – so none of them knew which sphere belonged to whom.

Lucius picked up Hermione’s crystal and thought briefly for a moment before he moved out through the balcony doors and carefully closed them behind himself. Tossing the sphere over the railing and into the sky, he aimed his wand at the glass and shattered it like a clay duck.

Part of him felt sick about sending the wrong sphere to Dolohov, the other part knew that using his results in place of her own would protect Hermione. It proved she was very strong, but not potentially stronger than Lord Voldemort himself. It was the only way he could think of to keep her as safe as possible with so little time.

Just as he was turning to go inside, Lucius spotted a large black dot cross his wards. It was an owl – and he was relieved. He was expecting a message from Snape. Lucius had told the dark man the day before that he wished to reinforce his Occlumency skills, that he had been having difficulty maintaining his shields as of late, and asked for a list of book recommendations as it had been years since he had studied the art. Of course, the list of books was for Hermione. Snape also said he would send a schedule for her Wandless magic training.

Lucius held out his arm for the large bird to settle on and used his wand to relieve the animal of its letter. “The owlery is to the west, you may stop there for a rest and a meal if you have the desire,” he told the creature who hooted softly and was off in a flurry of wings.

He watched the animal fly away as he replayed the scene from the night before in his head, praying he had made the right decision.

After Lucius had picked up her glowing sphere, Hermione had fallen back into her seat as if her bones had turned to liquid and stared as if in total awe of her own power. He chuckled quietly at the mental image of her, in disbelief.

 _“It should not be a surprise.”_ He had told her. _“Not with your wandless magic abilities.”_

She had given him a tentative smile and a gentle nod before wordlessly handing her wand out to him, handle end first. A frown pulled at his lips in remembrance. He had been shocked that he hadn’t had to ask for it, stunned that she had offered it up so willingly, and saddened at the look of pure devastation in her eyes as he took it from her grasp.

Twenty minutes later, he and Hermione were eating a simple breakfast in the dining room. “Draco didn’t come yesterday,” she said quietly after they had started tucking into their meal. “Have you heard from him?”

Lucius knew she was nervous for his son’s arrival. It had now been four days since he had last visited for a renewal of the bond. Lucius knew what the affects of the potion felt like after only three days, so he imagined Draco would waltz in at any moment to relieve his discomfort. “I know,” he answered her, as he quickly glanced about the portraits. “My day at Malfoy Enterprises is light, I will pay attention to the wards while I am gone.” He had spotted his father and adjusted his tone.

Glancing at his timepiece, he continued, “I am behind this morning, Miss Granger. I will have to leave you now. Here is a list of books I wish for you to take a look at over the next week. They should be in the library.” He lowered his voice, so his father could not hear when he added, “You also need to start meditating and clearing your mind daily, do you understand?”

Her eyes sparkled with understanding and he gave her an approving look when she nodded and murmured, “Yes, sir.” He stood and set the parchment next to her plate.

“Behave today, Miss Granger,” he instructed before giving her a shallow bow and leaving the dining room.

* * *

Constantly being under watch by the portraits in the Ladies Parlor was getting very tiresome. Hermione had attempted to get to work reading the occlumency books Lucius had given her, but the persistent whispered words of disappointment were fraying her nerves. They were dissatisfied mutterings from the observers who had begun to depend on her daily piano entertainment. She enjoyed playing the magnificent instrument very much, but not for hours on end every day. She did not want her only true escape to become a chore. The pressure from the portraits to play was becoming tedious. She understood. It was likely a very boring existence for them. There were only Lucius and Draco to watch over, as well as herself. There were no grandchildren and no Malfoy matriarch to guide and converse with. Having someone to entertain them must have been quite pleasing.

The one whom Hermione truly hated to let down was Willow Malfoy. Lucius’ mother was a delightful piano teacher. She didn’t scold Hermione for mistakes, she merely advised her on how to avoid them next time. Her demeaner was kind and nurturing and Hermione had become very fond of the witch and knew without a doubt that the lovely woman was fond of her as well. Willow had sighed heavily from her portrait the prior morning when Hermione had told Lucius she would study all day. It had clearly been a sigh of regret. And today would be the second day in a row Hermione didn’t play. Part of Hermione’s guilt stemmed from what she had learned of Willow’s history; the woman had had a very sad adulthood and Hermione was pleased to accept some kindness and give something in return.

Narcissa had explained to Hermione about Willow’s ten-year silence and cautioned Hermione against letting Lucius know that Willow was talking to and teaching her. Willow wasn’t talking to the other portraits and Narcissa feared it would hurt Lucius if his mother continued with her silence towards him as well. The heartache Narcissa felt from Draco’s refusal to talk to her was upsetting beyond words and she would not wish that heartbreak on her widower husband. Apparently, Willow had been abused by her husband, Abraxas, and her death had been under suspicious circumstances. Narcissa didn’t go into too much detail, but the woman’s spirit had been broken and her self-worth shattered by the hateful man. 

This was Hermione’s education, though. She needed to study, and she needed quiet. It was because of her desire to escape the constant disappointed gaze of a room full of portraits that Hermione fled to the pool room. She had asked Tinny to place a simple impervious charm on the books to keep them from being damaged by the humid and chemical ridden air. She had just gotten herself situated and finished looking over the table of contents of the first book when she felt it. The wards had activated. The pins and needles creeping up her body told her it was Draco and not Lucius. The wards would cause a warm flush if it was Lucius.

Unable to stop it, intense anxiety and dread washed over her. She had known he would come and had been expecting him since the day before. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to remain calm. She wished there was a potion she could take to make her not care what he did to her. Something that would numb her brain and her emotions. She began gathering the books deciding she would head back to her room.

Hermione flinched when the door opened. He had not wasted any time and found her immediately, approaching with his usual hateful gleam.

“Books in the pool room are not allowed, Mudblood. _You_ of all swots should know that. Or are you truly as stupid as I suspect you are?” Draco’s voice was deadly and caused her heartrate to accelerate.

Not wanting to anger him further, she kept what she really wanted to say to herself. She was about to explain that Tinny had placed an impervious charm on the books but stopped herself. She realized that Tinny doing anything kind for her might anger him further, so she found herself unable to explain that the books were protected. It was in this moment she realized Draco would hardly approve of what she was reading, and she prayed he wouldn’t take a closer look.

“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t thinking.” She need not have worried, though. Draco’s eyes were only on her and were completely disinterested in the reading material

His eyebrows shot up at her subservient address and a small, victorious smile crept over his face. “I see you are finally learning your place.” He watched her as she kept her eyes on the ground.

Hermione would do her best to show as little emotion as possible, therefore giving him little to feed off and use against her. Playing a broken and spiritless victim would hopefully bore him and cause him to lose interest in tormenting her.

“Regardless, you’ll have to be punished for abuse of Malfoy property.” When she didn’t flinch or look at him, he paused. He wanted to get a rise out of her. “But first I have needs. Undress, Mudblood.”

Hermione swallowed her hatred and kept her face calm and obedient as she slipped off the sky-blue silk gown and robes, leaving her in nothing but eggshell colored stockings, two-inch, kitten heels and a pale blue bra and garter belt. As usual, she wore no knickers. His eyes raked down her body as he slipped off his robes and began to unbuckle his belt.

As Hermione stood under Draco’s assessing gaze, she felt a flicker of relief when she felt the warm rush of heat creeping up her body that alerted her to Lucius arriving home. Just knowing he was in the manor gave her a sense of protection even though she knew he wouldn’t intervene unless there were extraordinary circumstances.

Expecting a slap or a hit of some sort, or certainly an insult, she waited with bated breath as Draco began to circle her. The feel of his eyes on her skin as he continued his predatory assessment was unsettling. He stopped mere inches in front of her, his face close enough to kiss her yet he hadn’t so much as touched her. Despite her best efforts, her anxiety escalated as she felt his warm breath on her cheek. He whispered with a tone of seduction, as though they were lovers, “I’ve been on a very interesting assignment, Mudblood. An adventure that is coming to a close.” She swallowed her terror when he pressed his lips with the lightest of touches to her left cheek. She began to tremble as goosebumps washed over her arms. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see him so close. Any second now he would strike with venomous fangs.

She coached herself. _Stay calm. Stay strong_. She felt the brush of his fingertips over her left breast and tried to remain as still as possible despite her urge to run. His hand moved up to her face where the backs of his fingers lightly brushed first one cheek and then the other. He continued to speak in a caressing tone. “It’s an assignment I think you’ll be very interested in knowing the details of when I return…which won’t be long.” He kissed her temple delicately before taking a step back.

After a second’s pause, he asked in his normal condescending voice, “Wont that be nice? Getting back to our usual routine?” When she didn’t respond he goaded her. “I asked you a question. Answer me truthfully.”

The bond prevented her from lying. “No.”

“No?” He grinned maliciously. “You don’t think that will be nice?”

“No,” she responded with an edge to her voice.

“Well, I see you didn’t learn your place for very long. Brightest witch of your age, indeed. You forgot to call me, sir. I rather liked it when you did that a few minutes ago. You will address me as sir from now on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent.” He took another small step away from her, yet she could feel his eyes on her face. “Only now you’ve hurt my delicate feelings, so you will not only be punished for the books, but for being rude and uncaring as well. That will come later, however.” 

His eyes glazed down her body. “Hmm…decisions, decisions. Arse or cunt. Which shall it be? Both maybe?” He slipped off his outer robes and then continued in a mocking tone. “Ladies choice. Why don’t you choose. See? I can be a gentleman.”

Was this a trick? If she gave an answer would he do the opposite to spite her?

Before she could conjure a response, he impatiently answered for her. “Both, you say? My you are a needy little whore, aren’t you? Take your shoes and bra off,” he ordered as he continued to undress. When she was clad in only stockings and garter belt, he pointed to the floor in front of him. “On your knees. Suck me.”

Hermione gingerly kneeled before him and took his hardening length into her mouth. “Eyes up here,” he commanded. His hands gripped her hair and he leered at her when her brown eyes met his grey. She began moving her mouth back and forth, taking as much of him as she could. Not moving her gaze, she watched as his head fell back and his jaw fell open. He had begun thrusting his hips lightly and she prayed he wouldn’t gag her. Her prayers were answered when he flicked his wand and whispered a transfiguration charm, turning a chaise into a bed with a simple mattress. Then he pointed his wand at her pelvis and whispered another charm and she felt an odd sensation inside of her. It immediately dawned on her it was the same charm as that first night. The one that had emptied her before he buggered her.

“On the bed and on your back, now!”

She scrambled to her feet and onto the bed as quickly as possible, trying to keep her panic at bay.

His tone was conversational as he climbed on top of her and said, “Did you know that when a woman is crucio’d her body tenses up and seizes? Rodolphus says it’s exquisite to have your cock buried in a witch when that happens.”

_Oh God!_

He continued sliding up until he was straddling her chest. He stroked his cock and then slipped it into her mouth. Leaning forward onto his palms, he began to thrust into the warm, hot cavity. “If your teeth touch me, I’ll remove them one by one.”

Her eyes began to water as he continued pumping himself into her mouth. She gagged and strained to get air through her nose as he pressed his length into her throat. She covered her teeth with her lips as best she could to keep them from touching him and felt them go numb. Her jaw was tense and sore as he continued his oral assault. Just when she thought she might pass out from lack of air and was drenched in drool on her chin and cheeks, he abruptly pulled out. He quickly slid down her body, hooking her legs in the crook of his arms before slamming himself into her. She couldn’t help the shriek that escaped her vocal chords. It felt like her vagina had been ripped open. _Don’t cry, Hermione_. But it was no use. He was brutal with quick thrusts that jabbed her cervix and caused jarring pain.

“I kind of like it when you cry,” he said simply, as he watched the first tear fall. She turned her head away, her right hand slipping up and brushing away the traitorous drop of water. She tried not to let another one fall when she heard his chuckle. He shifted positions and fell back onto his knees, pulling her hips with him and spreading her legs wider. Her shoulders remained on the mattress, her back arching off his lap. He began breathing heavier as he watched himself slide in and out of her.

After a minute, he fell forward to tower over her once again, his eyes focused between them, on her chest. His breathing was heavy, and his thrusts were becoming more erratic which were two tells he was getting close to completion. He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head. His words were strained and breathless. “Your cunt feels _so_ damn good, but it’s time to make it feel even better.” Then he did it. Clasping both her wrists in one hand, he grabbed his wand with the other and whispered, _“Crucio.”_  

She arched and screamed as blinding pain consumed her. Every muscle tensed as each nerve ending in her body caught fire. She wanted to die, anything to make it stop. And then it was over. Her body went limp as she slowly became aware. She could hear him panting and feel his body still. She peeked up at him to discover a glazed look in his eyes. He was no longer inside her, but she could feel his ejaculate running out of her. He was still breathing heavy as he rolled off and onto his back.

“Wow. That was… that was.” He turned to her and flashed a broad smile. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

She recoiled at the brightness of his smile and wondered if he was stark raving mad as tears streamed down her cheeks and her body seized with an after tremor.

He pushed himself up and sat on the side of the bed before looking back at her and dismissively saying, “Yeah, those suck. But you were only cursed for a few seconds, they’ll pass in a minute or so.” He let out a heavy breath and then stood, whistling as he started to dress.

Hermione had known he was a monster, but what he had just done shocked her. There was no limit to his depravity. She rolled to her side, pulling her knees to her chest while trying to stymie her tears. After what felt like a couple moments, the tremors had stopped, and she was feeling alright. The pain was already a memory.

When she began to move, as though to get dressed, he gave her a stern look. “Stay! I’m not finished with you. It’s been a while since I provided the Dark Lord with a memory. Let’s give him a good one, shall we?” He began threading his belt through his trouser loops. “He has so many visitors these days. Especially now that school is out… young recruits standing by to do his bidding.” Draco stopped dressing and looked at her before continuing. “He often times shares the pensieve memories gifted to him…as a reward to his faithful followers and recruits.”

She knew he was watching her, just waiting for a reaction. She would do her best not to give him one.

“Many enjoyed watching us, not only through the mirror that first night, but re-watching it through a pensieve as well. I understand Wormtail watches it obsessively, so does Cormac McLaggen. You remember him, don’t you? He’s been hanging around hoping to be made a Death Eater.”

Hermione knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. _He’s lying, Hermione. You have no way of knowing he isn’t simply trying to goad you. For all you know, that was nothing but a regular mirror that night._

“So, let’s make a new one… now. It’s always nice to provide quality wank material for the men.” He smiled broadly. “Not that what we just did won’t give them a good visual, mind you. It’s just…well, you _are_ Hermione Granger, and you’ve proven rather popular in the porn pensieve.”

She felt sick as she thought back on all he had done to her, on the way’s he had taken her. _Oh God._ Her head had started to pound.

Draco gestured to the head of the bed. “Why don’t you lay back and spread your legs nice and wide. Get comfortable.”

Hermione swallowed heavily as a vicious heat of dread crept over her. _No! No more!_ When she didn’t move, he startled her by snapping abruptly, “Now, Mudblood!” Unable to stop herself, she quickly did as he instructed.

Draco’s gaze was between her legs. “You really do have a pretty cunt. It’s only fair I let the others get a good look at it, don’t you think? I mean, since father won’t let me allow any of them to fuck you, we can certainly let them _look_ at you!”

She couldn’t help the tear that escaped her bottom left lash, quickly followed by another.

“Have you learned how to get yourself off yet?”

_Oh fuck!_

“Because if not, you’re going to figure it out right now. Either way, you’re going to rub one out for all to see.”

Sheer panic overcame her, and she began to see spots. She felt lightheaded and the room began to sway around her; she didn’t realize she had started hyperventilating. She barely heard Draco snap, “Fucking hell!” before everything went dark.

When she came to, she was sopping wet. Still on the bed, with her legs splayed out awkwardly, she realized she was drenched in pool water and that Draco must have used it to wake her.

“Finally!” Draco snapped. “You passed out on me! Such a pathetic weakling, you are.”

Suddenly, white hot rage overcame her. She was in motion before she even knew what she was doing. “You sadistic arsehole!” she screeched as she bolted out of bed and leapt on him. His wand clattered to the floor and he fell backwards when her weight hit him. She heard a satisfying crunch as her fist hit his nose. Before she could land another hit, he grabbed her wrists and flung her off him. He was on her instantly and a blinding punch landed on her left cheek.

When she came to the second time, Draco was standing over her with his wand pointed at her face and his left hand cradling his bleeding nose. “Get up!” he demanded.

The room was spinning, and her head was pounding now. Somehow, she managed to stand. Her left eye was swelling shut. Knowing it was wrong, but suddenly not caring what he did to her, she spit in his face. She claimed a small victory when the blood-mottled spittle landed on his cheek.

When he wiped it away and saw the red, his face paled. Hermione could see it in his eyes – he was actually afraid of her blood! When she spat a second time, he punched her so hard she stumbled into the pool.

She breached the surface coughing and feeling as though she would pass out from the pain of his assault. The pool was deep, and she couldn’t stand, so she swam to the edge only to have him crouch before her, grab a fistful of her hair, and push her under the surface. She clutched his fingers trying to pry them out of her curls. Draco yanked her above the surface but the second she opened her mouth to take a breath, he pushed her back under causing her to breath in a combination of air and water.

When her body’s natural reflexes kicked in and she attempted to cough out the water, she merely drew more into her mouth and lungs and it was in that moment she knew she was going to die. Instantly, several thoughts flashed through her consciousness at once.

There was a part of her that wanted to go with it, to allow it to end. It was the part of her that had stood on the wrong side of the balcony and welcomed death. It welcomed oblivion. There would be no more pain, no more torture, no more assaults; she could be with Ron and Harry.

Then there was the piece of her that knew how powerful she was, and she felt obligated to continue to fight this impossible fight. If this was ever going to end, if she were to ever be free again, she had to live. She had to live in order to have even a chance to make Harry proud. She owed it to her best friend to prevail and to at least try and be happy.

Not only that … but there was the part of her that was beginning to care about Lucius Malfoy and the kindness he had shown her. This portion of her wanted to sway him to her side, to conspire with him, to bring him into the Light. It also wanted to experience the pleasure that he could bring her again and again.

Without warning, it dawned on her that if she gave up and let Draco kill her now, that Lucius would be punished for it. He had been ordered to keep her alive. She panicked, and the will to fight filled her again.

Hermione kicked her legs fiercely and continued to claw at the hands that were holding her under the surface of the water. Bubbles rose around her as she screamed her frustration, only to suck in more chlorinated liquid. Desperation mounting, she twisted and screamed a second time.

Suddenly, there was a stabbing pain in her scalp before her body felt light and Draco was no longer pushing her under the water’s surface. She grasped the edge of the pool in attempts to pull herself up as she tried to draw in a mouthful of air unsuccessfully. Her diaphragm spasmed and caused liquid to gush out of her mouth, burning her throat and nose as it made its way up and out of her chest.

When she became aware of her surroundings, she was laying by the pool and Draco was towering over her. “Next time I _will_ kill you!” he spat.

“That’s _enough_ , Draco! Leave!”

The second voice was a welcome one and came from behind her. She watched with exhausted eyes as Draco scowled before turning and stalking away as she lay on her side. She gasped lungfuls of air and coughed horrifically as her body seized with the effort to re-oxygenate itself. She was freezing and began to shiver violently, and her teeth were chattering. The left side of her face was on fire with pain and she realized she was entirely unable to see through her left eye. With no strength to move, she closed her eyes. Suddenly she was no longer wet and was being lifted into familiar, strong arms.

* * *

He had only been home for a few minutes at the most and he was already worried. He had taken off his cloak and boots and slipped his house shoes on before he attempted to do some paperwork but a split second later, knowing that she was with his sadistic son, he started to pace. A feeling kept clawing at the edges of his mind that he batted away over and over. A feeling that told him how he didn’t want to share her. How he wanted to keep her away from Draco. How he wanted to end the abuse his son was causing the girl in his care.

He hadn’t been able to help it when a vision of his mother came unbidden to his mind. She sat in her suite, her legs tucked under her while Tinny dabbed at her face with a cloth. Lucius, a young boy – not even ten-years-old, had entered looking for her. He had panicked at the sight of blood on the cloth the elf was using, and his mother had jumped when he cried out for the elf to stop hurting her.

It had startled him badly when he was jarred back to the present by Tinny coming to him in a panic. “Young Master is drownings the Good Witch ins the pools, Master Lucius!”

He hadn’t thought twice, he had just spun on the spot and Apparated outside the poolroom and flung the doors open with a bang. He had been just in time to witness Draco holding Hermione under the surface of the water before his son had cried out in surprise and had been magically pushed away from the edge of the pool. Lucius saw chunks of long, chestnut colored hair in both his fists as Draco flew back through the air, colliding with a pool side settee.

Hermione had heaved herself out of the water wearing only her garter belt and stockings, her mouth gaping and her body shuddering as what looked like gallons of water poured out of her mouth and nose. Her hair was clinging to her back and shoulders, around her breasts and over her face. Lucius rushed towards her as she convulsed again and again as water was expelled from her lungs. He was aware his son had risen from where the girl had thrown him with wandless magic in order to save herself. He couldn’t help the small swell of pride at her magical strength. _That’s my girl!_ He internally scolded himself. _Your girl? Maybe you are the mad one, not Draco!_

She collapsed, and Lucius had sagged with relief when he heard her drag in a rattling breath before starting to cough again. It took effort not to spell his son clear across the universe when Draco had used his foot to roll her over before he growled, “Next time I _will_ kill you!” in Hermione’s face.

“That is enough, Draco! Leave!” He hadn’t meant to say the words, but he found himself desperate to get the boy away from her.

Draco glared at him for a split second before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the other entrance to the poolroom, letting the door slam behind him.

* * *

Hermione’s face was a mess. Utterly destroyed. The bones around her left eye socket had been fractured and her eye was swollen shut. It was mottled with black and purple bruises that spread across her temple and into her hairline, over her nose, and down her cheek. The skin was broken in a few places but there was no blood because the pool had washed it away. It made Lucius feel completely sick that his son had caused this damage.  

Instead of calling for the healer this time, he had asked Tinny to apparate to the school and request Snape come through. He knew the man had extensive experience with healing magic, and Healer Jacobs was becoming too suspicious of the activities happening inside the Manor. Not that the man would report anything – he knew who was running the country these days.

For some reason, however, Lucius’ gut was telling him that he needed to see Snape’s reaction to Hermione’s condition. There was something up with his friend, and he wanted to pinpoint what it was.

He had cast a mild sedative charm on Hermione and had taken her to the Mistress Suite. It wouldn’t do for Snape to ask why the girl was in Lucius’ own bed. Tinny had magicked the girl into a soft robe and spelled her hair dry before Lucius took vigil at her bedside, waiting for Snape to arrive.

 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**AN: Lissa and I are excited to say we are writing like speed demons and have finished writing through chapter 19! We are very hopeful to finish this crazy fic by the end of January. Our plan is to post one chapter per week on Wednesdays or Thursdays.**

**About Draco... We rec'd several comments ( on the various sites this story is posted on ) about Draco and how there is no way he can be redeemed. We just want to be clear; neither Lissa or I have ever said he would be redeemed or be forgiven by Hermione. However, what we have said is that his character is much more than what we have shown so far. Those of you who are Draco fans will hopefully be glad you hung in until the end when this story is said and done. Please forgive us for any confusion in that regard! Of course, we aren't saying he _isn't_ forgiven either... hahaha. We simply don’t like to give plot away. **

******Thank you to everyone who comments and throws out a kudo! There is so much more to come with this story!** ** **

********BETA shout out to RaynePhoenix2!** ** ** **

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

Severus Snape sat behind the Headmaster's desk at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, thinking back on the previous evening with his … slave. His lips twitched in a half smile as his heartrate accelerated slightly.

Ginny Weasley had proved herself to be more of a surprise than Snape would have ever guessed. He had been the first to choose from the "spoils of war", as the Dark Lord had called it at the time. In that moment, Snape had had to Occlude heavily to avoid showing his absolute disgust when he had been presented with a gaggle of former … _students_.

Voldemort knew Snape's taste in women had never, ever strayed to the young witches in his care at Hogwarts, so Snape got the message. It was a reward laced with a hint of suspicion and punishment. Voldemort had not fully trusted his spy, and it had been a test. His only choice had been to play along.

He had walked up and down the line of young women – girls, really – and cringed internally at the thought of copulating with any of them. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he had been looking for Hermione Granger. It would have been awful, she would have driven him crazy, but having her as an eventual ally would have been very useful. When he had realized that she wasn't in the lineup, he had sighed, straightened his shoulders, and went through the line a second time. He made it appear as though he were giving careful perusal of each witch's … attributes.

Then his eyes had rested on _her_ face. Pale skin with freckles, a slightly upturned nose, liquid brown eyes, and deep auburn colored locks. He had grabbed her arm roughly and spun her to face Voldemort before he had thoroughly thought through his decision.

He had been allowed to take her privately – unlike the horrific debacle that had been the debasement of Hermione Granger. His slave's degradation was about the potion – Voldemort had wanted it tested and the results recorded before he made any further decisions about prisoners. Granger's degradation had been about putting the resistance in his place; about having one of the Light's most glorified people and destroying her publicly.

Ginny Weasley had not been a virgin, much to his relief. Part of him hoped the bond would not take, and he felt sick when it had worked immediately and well. The girl had fought him tooth and nail with more spirit then he had given her credit for. In the end, he had had to restrain her in order to fuck her.

 _Rape her. You raped her,_ he reminded himself. Snape had to remind himself of this from time to time – it was necessary because these days he almost felt as if he were living in some sort of twisted fairy tale where he was the knight in black armor.

The first week of his and Ginny's … relations … had been awful. He knew that had this been a public transgression, he would have been expected to take her multiple times daily. Because he was allowed to test the potion in private, however, he waited until the bond pulled at him before he'd touch her.

The girl's fire and spirit burned hot, and while Snape was very much turned on by the aspect of non-consensual sex, it was the first time in his life that he had participated in a true rape. Oh, he had played _games_ with witches. Games where the goal was to _pretend_ she didn't want him, and he was to force her. In his world – where he was Master; where he was Dominant – it was just par for the course.

It was different with Ginny, though. He wanted her, he adored her spitfire personality, but he hated – _hated_ – that it wasn't part of a game for her. That she truly reviled him. That she cried real tears when he took her against her will. Even making sure she reached her own pleasure time and time again had not helped him feel any better.

He had desperately tried to show her through his actions that he wasn't enjoying himself, that he didn't want to do this to her. He had been kind to her and made sure she had plenty of food, rest, and access to the bathroom and clean clothes. He had spoken softly to her, praised her bravery, and offered her hankies when she cried. At first, she didn't seem to notice these things.

Snape had explained how the potion worked and had commanded things of her when she had consumed it to make sure it worked. She followed the simple orders – orders such as put your hands on your head, dust the sitting room, don't touch these books. It was the orders that had given him away. Well, not just the orders. Snape hadn't actually been very subtle that he was protecting her when, during week two, Amycus Carrow had tried to have a go with the redhead. Snape had put his actual fist in the man's mouth proclaiming that he didn't share and forbidding Carrow to ever lay a hand on her again.

That night the force of the bond had grown to a terrible agitation. He had wanted to give her until the next day to somewhat recover from Carrow's attack, but he'd been unable to wait. It was the fourth time he had been forced to take her without consent, and she was fighting him just as violently as all the others, just as violently as she had fought Carrow earlier that afternoon.

Unexpectedly, she had frozen, her eyes flying wide with shock at her discovery. Her stillness had caused him to pause as well, and he looked down into her liquid chocolate colored eyes. "You don't want to do this, either." It had been a statement.

His hard expression had softened at her words. Minutely, he shook his head.

"Is that why you never order me to comply with you when you… Well…when you…you know…"

He didn't answer her, he had not spoken much to her at all the entire time she had been his. Tears had trickled down her temples into her hair. Her cheeks were flushed from their struggle for dominance and he held her hands above her head as he stretched out on top of her. His cock (which he'd had to take a potion in order to use properly) had laid heavy along her thigh. They were both breathing raggedly.

"Professor," she murmured. "Are you on our side? Are you still playing spy?"

He had closed his eyes in relief; she had been the first one to learn the truth. It had changed everything – _everything_. "Yes!" he had hissed and then he kissed her for the first time – and she had returned the affection.

It had been near eight weeks since the Defeat of Hogwarts, and his whole life had changed. Somehow, the change had been for the better even though the despot he called Master had prevailed. He had an ally for the first time, and Ginny had thrown herself into her role.

After the second week was over, he had told her about his sexual proclivities and that it would be expected of him to demonstrate the bond. Because his brethren knew of his inclinations for the world of BDSM and the Dominant/submissive relationship, they would be required to play the part. Much to her chagrin – and his utter delight – she responded more than favorably to the role of submissive.

That's when everything had turned from surviving to _living_.

Every moment of the day that he wasn't with her, he _wanted_ to be. She was bright and witty, she laughed at his dry humor and was the first person he had known on the side of the Light that looked at him with eyes full of trust. He had been teaching her about the Dominant/submissive lifestyle and it was a pure pleasure to watch her blossom under his tutelage. Six weeks into their relationship, a month after she uncovered his ruse, she admitted to him that she didn't think she'd ever be able to return to the world of vanilla sex. Being a submissive had become a part of her as quickly and as desperately as she was becoming a part of him.

As the days continued, the trust turned to affection, then desire…and now. Snape swallowed heavily.

She had told him last night that she loved him.

Granted, it had been in the throes of passion. She had been wildly out of her mind with lust and desire. He had suspended her, flogged her, and edged her mercilessly. When he had entered her and allowed her to climax, she had screamed it along with his name and some choice expletives.

All day he had replayed the scene in his mind. Her body convulsing around his engorged cock, only the whites of her eyes showing as she shuddered beneath him screaming. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, Master. Oh, Severus. Oh Gods, fuck, I love you! I love you! I love you!"It would not leave his thoughts, but it was the first time anyone had said those three words to him. He had lived thirty-eight years never hearing them – and the way they had been said to him had been beyond perfect. The young woman who had screamed them was beyond exquisite.

Heaven and the gods help him, but he loved her as well.

Snape's attention returned to the parchment in front of him that was awaiting his signature. He muttered darkly under his breath when he realized the quill that he had suspended over the line had dripped. Wandlessly, he vanished the drops with a murmured incantation and scrawled his name. It was enough for the morning, he longed to return to his witch. They could have lunch together and talk.

With a sigh, he picked up his wand and warded the office door before turning and walking through the archway that hid the stairwell that would return him to his rooms. He almost smiled when he found Ginny sprawled asleep on the davenport with a book open on her chest.

Snape was about to kneel beside her and wake her when a loud _CRACK!_ shattered the silence in the room. Ginny bolted upright with a shriek while Snape pointed his wand at the little elf that appeared.

"Tinny is most grievously sorry, she is, Headmaster Snape!" the ugly thing tittered. "Master Lucius Malfoy has sented me, sir. He's is needing help with Missy Granger, he is. She is very hurted. Master Draco was terribly … ohs! I's be not saying that, I's having to punish myself."

The poor little thing burst into tears and Snape couldn't help it when his thumb and forefinger came up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. He calmed immediately when he felt Ginny's presence at his side and her small, warm hand sliding around his wrist to lace her fingers with his. He dropped his other hand. "I am needed at Malfoy Manor?" he asked the elf.

"Yessir!" Tinny bobbed her head anxiously. "As quicklies as possible, Headmaster."

Snape turned to Ginny as the elf's crack of Disapparition filled the space. He was about to tell her that he would be back as quickly as he could, when he froze at the look of determination in her eyes. "I want to come with."

"We've talked about this, Ginny," he said quietly, smoothing a lock of hair behind one of her ears. "Lucius Malfoy is a dangerous man, and Draco has become completely unhinged."

"Please, Severus." Ginny grasped his wrist in one small hand and turned her face into his palm to bury a kiss on the sensitive skin. "She's my family; I want to be there," she pleaded, her voice was soft, but she couldn't hide the tremor of impending tears.

"Trust me on this, love," Snape implored her. "Draco is in the Manor, Lucius is asking for my assistance. You are safer here, I will make arrangements for you to see her soon."

She pressed her lips firmly together. It was obvious she was biting back her protests. He held her eyes calmly, knowing she would see his reasoning. Finally, she looked down and nodded obediently. "Alright," agreed. "Please come home soon."

"I will," he promised. Tilting her chin up, he settled his lips against her own. Heat coursed through him when she returned the gesture and he had to stifle a groan as she threaded her hands through is hair. Begrudgingly, he ended their connection. "Have some lunch while I am gone and continue studying your Occlumency."

"Yes sir," she gave him a small smile and he chuckled before pressing one last kiss to her forehead.

Snape went through the Malfoy's entrance floo minutes after Tinny had left him to find the elf waiting impatiently for him. Without ceremony, the little thing grasped his robes and Apparated them directly into a bedroom suite. The sight that greeted him was a shock in many regards.

Lucius sprung to his feet, a slight look of desperation marring his features momentarily before his expression smoothed. "Severus, thank you for coming in such a timely manner."

"Of course," Snape responded as his eyes shifted to the small young woman in the too large bed. He swallowed hard, feeling sick at the sight of her. Merlin's bloody bollocks – she looked awful. He had to Occlude heavily to maintain his composure. He abhorred men who felt beating women to put or keep them in their place was necessary. The thought of laying a hand on a member of the fairer sex like this made him physically ill.

He could tell from where he stood that she had sustained fractures to her orbital socket; those would be very delicate to mend. Snape moved closer to the bed. "What happened?"

"I only caught the end of their altercation," Lucius answered quietly. "Draco was holding her under the water in the pool, Miss Granger employed wandless magic – even though she had been ordered not to use it – to throw him off her. She coughed up an obscene amount of water before passing out. Tinny assisted me in getting her cleaned up and back to her room, but as you can see, the healing she needs is beyond my abilities."

"Why not call a Healer?" It was a valid question, but Snape was sure he knew the answer. Both he and Lucius were dancing around each other in attempts to figure out exactly where the other stood. Neither were ready to come out and share their thoughts, and Lucius was a good enough Occlumens to keep him out of his stubborn blond head. Snape was almost positive that Lucius would deflect if given the right information – if he had the right motivation. He suspected that Lucius had called him here not only to have him heal Granger, but to see his reaction to her injuries and witness his interaction with the girl.

If Snape was reading the older aristocrat like he thought he was, there was a chance that Granger could be the catalyst that swayed Lucius Malfoy to the Light. He knew the time would need to be just…right.

"He's been called here far too many times in the past few weeks," Lucius answered stiffly.

"I see."

"Can you…?" Snape watched as Lucius attempted to control his facial features while his sentence trailed off. He found himself very intrigued with the way his friend was watching the girl with guilt-ridden eyes. Lucius Malfoy's composure was crumbling…that was interesting. Very…very…interesting.

He pretended not to notice.

"Yes, I can fix her face," he said abruptly. "Send for your elf."

* * *

"Miss Granger," Lucius murmured softly as he gently pushed a curl out of her eyes. It was late-evening and Snape had left a few hours prior with instructions to let her sleep and to get a light dinner in her before having her sleep some more.

After Snape had returned to Hogwarts, Lucius instructed Tinny to stay with Hermione and call him if there were any problems. He had searched the Manor for Draco, only to find him gone. In all actuality, he was relieved his son had left – he wasn't sure what might have happened if he had found the boy. The state of mind he had been in had been deadly.

He had calmed some while he quilled a letter to Voldemort, not wanting the man to hear what had happened from anyone but he, himself. It would not do for Voldemort to think that Lucius was hiding information…it might make the tyrant more apt to look into his life more closely than he already was.

He had spent the afternoon catching up on some correspondence for ME and scanning some of the books Snape had recommended on Occlumency to figure out the best way to teach the girl. He needed her to learn to shut her thoughts off as quickly as she could. Her mind already held too many secrets for him to be comfortable. If she was called in front of Voldemort any time soon – they both might wind up dead.

"Hermione," he breathed while letting his fingers trace her brow line. The bones in her face were fixed, and the bruising was better but still awful. It was a mottled green and yellow fading into the normal peaches and cream complexion her skin held when it was unmarred.

Not only had Draco shattered her eye socket, he had detached her retina, ripped the left nostril of her nose and caused three molars to become loose in her jaw. Snape's diagnostics also had shown a mild case of whiplash from the force of her head snapping back with the hit…and a labial tear from his sexual assault. It had taken extreme effort for Lucius not to swear up a storm when Snape had explained calmly why he was lifting his charges robes.

Snape had been… captivating to observe. Lucius felt his guesses were correct, though he wasn't sure exactly what to do with the information he was gathering. He was sure Snape thought he had controlled his reaction to seeing Hermione battered and bruised as she was, but Lucius had seen a flash of disgust and fury in his eyes. When he had cast the diagnostic charms, the Headmaster had muttered darkly under his breath.

These actions, and the discussion they'd had following their last dinner together, had shown Lucius that Snape…for lack of a better term…cared for the girl. Or at least cared what was happening to her. Lucius knew that his own affection for Hermione Granger had slipped through his careful mask as well. Once upon a time, he and Snape had told each other many things about their lives and had shared many secrets. He considered the man his best friend – he was Draco's Godfather for Merlin's sake! He would just have to continue to be observant and to bide his time.

Heaving a deep, discontented sigh of indecision, Lucius picked up the jar of bruise paste from the bedside stand and applied another application carefully to the left side of Hermione's face. Her eyes fluttered, and a small smile curved her lips as his thumb smoothed the cream over her cheek bone.

"Hi," she whispered hoarsely and reached up to brush his face gently with her fingers.

 _What is the matter with you?_ he hissed at himself when his nose prickled as though he were going to cry. Instead he cleared his throat with a fake cough and responded, "Hello, Miss Granger." He felt like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when her eyes met his. "It is time for dinner," he forced himself to say. "I had the kitchen elves prepare something light. You do not have to dress, we will eat in my rooms."

"Alright," she said, and winced as she attempted to push herself into a seated position.

"Be careful," he admonished, feeling like a ridiculous mother hen. "Here, I'll help you." He placed an arm around her shoulders and guided her upright before he pulled the blankets off her legs and helped her to the edge of the bed.

Lucius gave up assisting her about halfway across the room because her legs were wobbly, and she was leaning heavily into him. She assured him she was just fatigued and that she could make it, but he took matters into his own hands and swept her up against his chest.

His heart raced erratically when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, murmuring her thanks. She weighed next to nothing and his arms tightened protectively.

They entered his room seconds later and he immediately moved his gaze to the portraits. The landscapes were all empty for once, and he intended to keep them that way for the next couple of hours. He settled Hermione on the plush cabriole davenport before he pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at each portrait in turn.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was cautious, but curious, and raspy from breathing in the pool water.

"Making it so the portraits cannot be entered by anyone other than those who are supposed to be in the frames," he answered while avoiding her gaze. "As I have no human portraits in this suite, we will be undisturbed this evening."

"Is that wise?"

He gave a low, mirthless laugh. "No, it probably isn't. I can't find it in myself to care this evening, however. It's not something we can do repeatedly, it will cause too much suspicion."

"I see."

Lucius chanced a brief glance at the girl. She was looking at her lap and was holding the edges of the lavender robe in clenched fingers and trembling slightly. Her face was pale under the lingering bruises. She looked older…and very, very tired.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She met his gaze. "A bit," she responded. He hated how raw her voice sounded.

He pulled a soft throw off the back of a chair and gently placed it over her lap before stoking the fireplace in front of her.

"Aren't we going to eat?" She was confused. Lucius was too, for that matter. His affection for her through the afternoon had only continued to intensify. Her comfort was at the forefront of his mind.

"Yes," he answered. "Take this first." He fished a vile of potion out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. "It's a preventative, so you don't get pneumonia." He watched for a brief moment as she tipped the contents into her mouth before he turned his wand on the low coffee table and raised it to a height where it would be comfortable to eat from while sitting at the couch. Then he flicked the stick of elm at the dishes on the small dining table and levitated them in front of her before vanishing the silver covers.

There were two large crocks of chicken soup and a loaf of hot, crusty bread next to a dish of flower-shaped butter pads. Fruit, olives, and a variety of cheeses filled another platter. There were two goblets of iced water, two empty teacups, a steaming teapot, and a tray laden with tea fixings. It was a perfectly acceptable light meal.

He wasn't sure who was more surprised when he settled himself next to her, thigh to thigh, and started preparing her tea. She thanked him when he handed her the cup of hot Earl Grey and took a sip that was followed by a deep, contented sigh before she leaned very slightly into his side.

Neither said anything as he buttered a chunk of bread for her before he fixed his own tea and started in on the soup. It was a thick, creamy chicken with shredded carrots and had a nice flavor. He watched Hermione as she carefully spread her napkin in her lap and picked up her slice of bread. Her hands were shaking just slightly.

They ate quietly, snuggled up on the couch by the fire. Lucius had never done this before and was not sure why it had crossed his mind to have her stay put and bring the meal to her. He found himself loving it, however. The relaxed nature of the meal, the intimacy, and the warmth was comfortable, and he felt at ease.

He finished first and moved his arm, so it rested across the back of the couch behind Hermione. It caused her to shift and press herself more firmly to his side. He noticed her hands were shaking more now and that she was finished with her bread and had eaten some fruit and grapes but had barely touched her soup.

"Is the soup not to your liking?" he asked softly. Absentmindedly, the hand settled on the couch behind her sought her curls, tunneling through them to stroke the back of her head. She winced slightly, and he realized she might be sore. In his mind's eye, he could see the strands of hair Draco had ripped out of her head when her magic had pushed him away. He moved his fingers to a new spot, and she made a tick of pleasure in the back of her throat and leaned into him heavily.

"It's very good," she answered with a small huff of frustration, "but my hands are shaking, probably from fatigue. They won't stop. I'm afraid I'll get it all over."

Hermione tilted her head up to see his expression. He was looking down at her, and the expression in his eyes was thoughtful. Slowly, hesitantly, he answered her. "I will assist you, then." He couldn't believe he had said that out loud…he had never cared for someone like this before. He had never even fed Draco as a baby. Well…there was no backing out now.

Hermione watched him through wary eyes as he picked up the crock of soup in both hands before filling the spoon and raising it to her mouth. Her lips parted just slightly in completely surprise before she opened properly and allowed him to slip the spoonful into her mouth. The careful way he fed her the soup caused liquid heat to pool through her body. He watched her intensely, his eyes darkening with every mouthful, seemingly when her lips dragged back across the utensil to rid it of it's contents. It was the most intimate thing she had every done – no one outside of her parents had ever fed her like this before. Even then, it had been years upon years since they had spoon fed her.

His breath had changed and was just slightly heavier by the time the last bite was scraped from the bowl. Even with all she had been through earlier that day, she wasn't able to tamp down her attraction for him, or how it made her feel when he looked at her that way. She closed her eyes as he set the crock down and called for Bilby to clear the meal, just waiting for him to get up and leave her.

It shocked her when he settled back against the couch before he picked up his wand to summon his book from the nightstand. "Would you like me to summon yours, as well?"

"No, thank you," she murmured. "I'm content to just sit. Maybe I'll rest my eyes."

He didn't answer, just nodded, opened his book, and settled it on the arm rest next to him as he began to read. After a few minutes, she carefully rearranged the blanket over her lap, taking care to spread it over his knees as well as her own. Just before she sank into the back of the couch, Lucius put his arm around her and pulled her into his side. He buried his hand in her curls again and gently began rubbing her scalp, all the while never taking his eyes off his book. After another moment of surprise, she relaxed into him completely and rested her face in the indentation just below his shoulder.

She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew she was carefully being disrobed and laid out gently on the mattress. She watched him through her eyelashes as he stripped down to his boxers and made his way around to his side of the bed. She let out a slow, controlled sigh as he sat on the edge of the bed and flicked his wand. He appeared to be removing the charm from the portraits. Then he set an alarm to the tempus charm and doused the lights in the room before he placed the piece of wood on the nightstand.

He was arranging himself to fall asleep when the whispered words left her mouth without her permission. She just…needed him…needed his closeness and warmth. Needed to feel human presence. "Lucius?" she murmured.

He let out a low grunt, obviously surprised she was awake. "What, princess?"

"Will you…hold me?"

Their eyes locked in the dark, and for a moment she swore he was going to tell her no. To roll over and go to sleep, but he picked up the blanket and beckoned her closer to him. She moved, never taking her eyes off him. He settled on his back and allowed her to place her head in the crook of his shoulder and an arm around his waist.

The arm that she was laying on wrapped around her and his hand splayed over her hip, while the other moved and tilted her face up to his. "This was one of the nicest evenings I've had since this whole bloody war started." The honesty of his words left her breathless and she felt tears prickle her eyes.

"Me too," she answered truthfully. Her eyes closed when his lips descended on hers in a gentle, chaste kiss.

"Sleep, Hermione." He told her when he pulled away.

She did.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**AN: Same legal disclaimer as before.**

**Thanks to everyone who has commented and kudo'd! We apologize for not responding to your wonderful comments yet. It is our intention to do so! I will go back and write each of you in return when I have the chance. Lissa is a bit out of commission from having a surgical procedure on Friday. She is doing well, but is very tired as is to be expected. We have the next chapter written and it will post next week. It is our goal to post every Wednesday or Thursday. Thanks again for your support of this story!**

**Big shout out to our BETA, Raynephoenix2! Love you!**

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**Chapter Eighteen**

**Saturday, July 5** **th**

Hermione pulled on her beloved jeans and sweater. Lucius had conceded to her wearing denim only on Saturdays and when doing any physical activity. Today qualified for both. She was heading to her first wandless magic lesson with her former professor. A large piece of her never wanted to see him again. It was the part of her that hated him for his betrayal and loathed him and wished he would die one thousand deaths for inventing the blasted bonding potion. Only a truly horrid person would create such a thing.

Yet, despite all that, there was a small part of her that still had a smidgen of faith in the dark wizard. A sliver of her that believed, despite all signs to the contrary, he was still on her side. Ginny was happy and well cared for by the man and there was no denying he was a brilliant wizard. He had also agreed to tutor her for her NEWTs if Voldemort allowed it. It would be in her best interest not to provoke him.

Upon entering Lucius' study, Hermione shrieked when a bolt of purple light blasted her right shoulder and knocked her back into the door frame. _What the fuck!_ Rubbing her now aching arm she cautiously righted herself, staring in disbelief at her supposed teacher, whose wand was still pointed at her. When another bolt of light from its tip came towards her, she ducked her head and darted behind a chair. The curse just missed her and blasted a lamp to pieces. What the hell was he playing at? Was he simply planning to curse her? To kill her?

She stayed hidden behind the chair until she heard him start to walk towards her. She dashed back towards the door and just missed a flash of white that whizzed towards her. She grabbed the door handle, only to find it wouldn't open. Panicked, Hermione peeked back over her shoulder to find the dark wizard less than six feet away. Her eyes darted to his wand when at least ten huge snakes, king cobras by the look of them, slithered out of its tip. She watched in horror as they began slithering towards her, some not taking a direct route, so as to block her from running. She squealed and hopped on her feet as the snakes slowly drew closer. Instinct had her off the floor and standing on the closest chair. She then jumped onto the coffee table and onto another chair, only to find three snakes closing in on her.

Hermione barely registered a flash of red light from the wizard and realized that, if she moved, she would land on a snake. Having no other choice, she simply crouched and threw her hands over her head. So, when she heard the sound of the curse rebounding and looked up, she was stunned to find herself unharmed. She could just make out the glimmer of a Protego shield surrounding her. _What?_ She watched in amazement as the snakes circled the shield, unable to penetrate it.

Her eyes flew to her teacher's, who was now standing a few feet away and looking at her without expression. "Interesting," he said simply. With a flick of his wrist, the snakes vanished into wisps of vapor.

"Wha…"

Cutting her off, Snape asked, "Tell me Miss Granger, how does it feel to have failed. Failed to save Potter, failed to graduate, failed to actually…accomplish _anything_?"

Her jaw fell open as she stared at him in stunned silence. She wanted to yell at him, defend herself. But what could she say? He was right. She was an utter failure at everything.

"Well, with the exception of…your carnal talents," his eyes raked up and down her form. "I've seen several pensieve projections of your…abilities." He started to pace around her. "You play the innocent victim very well. However, in truth, everyone _knows_ why Potter and Weasley kept you around. Perhaps if you had spent less time rutting the two boys, the three of you could have actually prepared for and defeated the Dark Lord."

The shock of his accusation caused a rush of fire to seep through her veins. _**"What?!**_ That never happened! I – "

His gaze was piercing, his words snarled with venom and disgust. "As a student, we coddled you. You know that, don't you? Dumbledore _insisted_ the teachers treat you like you were…" he looked down at her disdainfully, "… _special_ and give you high marks on everything. He claimed it was important to the cause to have a Muggle-born be the top of the class."

The obvious loathing in his coal black stare caused her to shrink away from him as her mind spun with the implication of his words.

When Snape saw the flash of surprise and self-doubt caress her features, he sneered as he went in for the kill. "You were simply chosen because you were friends with _Potter_." He looked at her with contempt. "You were never special, never particularly talented at anything. Yet you strutted around, high and mighty with your supposed achievements, making ridiculous study guides for your friends. You thought they ignored them because they were lazy, but in truth they ignored them because they were _worthless_!"

Her mouth opened, her retaliatory retort on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't stop the hurt his cruel words inflicted and her voice left her. _It wasn't true. It wasn't._

He smiled mockingly. "Tell me, is the rumor true that instead of studying in the library, you were giving out sexual favors to Ravenclaws who did your homework for you?"

" _ **That is a lie!"**_ She shrieked. Little puffs of magical energy sparked from her hair and her fingers as Hermione began to rage. Rapid words flew out of her mouth with conviction. "I _never_ touched Harry or Ron or any _other_ Hogwarts boy for that matter. My marks were _earned_ and were my _own!_ Dumbledore would _never_ instruct his teachers to give out unearned grades. I worked hard and studied constantly and every…" She suddenly stopped when she noticed he had what looked like tar over his mouth, rendering him unable to speak.

Severus tipped his head lightly and whispered an incantation that caused the tar to disappear. His expression immediately changed to one of polite interest. "So, it seems your wandless and _non-verbal_ magic is manifested by extreme agitation or by perceived physical threat. That gives us an excellent starting point. It's quite impressive, Miss Granger. Particularly the non-verbal part in _addition_ to being wandless. It's very rare."

"What?" she asked, hearing the obvious exasperation, surprise, and exhaustion in her own voice.

"Come, there is no time to lose. We must harness and fine tune the untamed magic in your core. I must teach you to control it and teach you to summon it consciously when you are in a calm state of mind." He gestured towards the tray on the sideboard table. "Tea?"

After a couple seconds Hermione finally found her voice. _**"Tea?"**_

His right eyebrow cocked up at her in response.

"You just tried to kill me, and you are now offering me _tea_?"

He looked at her innocently. "Well, it _is_ four o'clock is it not?" he asked as though it was a perfectly reasonable thing to cease a wand fight to break for tea time. Hermione could see a slight twitch to his right upper lip. The realization that Severus Snape was making a joke was almost as shocking as the fact he had tried to bodily maim her.

"Splash of milk, one sugar," she responded as she crossed her arms and met his mirthful gaze with a steely one.

Hermione watched in surprise as the man in black – Severus Snape – prepared her a cup of tea. She had not expected him to actually do it and she didn't say anything when he handed it to her. Instead she watched him closely as he prepared his own.

When he passed her the tea, she felt on guard and cautious. Would he suddenly turn on her and throw another hex? What was he playing at? Was his intention to train her or to _torment_ her? She remembered the hell Harry had gone through trying to learn Occlumency under this wizard's tutelage. She suddenly felt she should have been a little more understanding of Harry's plight. Thinking of her dead best friend caused her knees to go weak. She quickly sat on the sofa as her trembling hands set her tea and its saucer on the coffee table before her.

When her mercurial professor sat across from her in one of the wingback chairs and took a sip from his cup, he caught her eyes with his. She began to feel a slight sense of unease when his onyx orbs held her chocolate ones intensely. When she felt a gentle nudge, she realized he was in her mind. A bolt of panic shot through her at the thought of him seeing what was private.

Seeing her abuse.

Seeing her weakness.

Seeing her with Lucius.

"No! You bastard!" she snapped as she quickly looked away. "Stay out of my mind!"

When Severus' only reaction was to simply keep watching her, she became extremely irritated. "Look, I don't know what you are playing at but…"

Severus interrupted without the slightest concern as he gently placed his cup on the coffee table between them. "Did you realize, Miss Granger, that you are also a natural Occlumens?"

"Well, how would I know that?! It's not every day that some jerk comes along and sticks his huge…" Her gaze shot up to his and her eyes grew wide. "What did you say?"

"Your talents are most surprising. Wandless casting, non-verbal spells, and now Occlumency? Is there anything else you are hiding? Are you also a Seer? The Dark Lord is quite interested in locating a reliable one," he added conversationally.

"I'm sure he and Trelawney would make a wonderful pair. Tell him I highly recommend her," she deadpanned in response.

When she saw not only the right side but the left side of his mouth twitch in mirth, she couldn't help her own small smile from emerging before almost instantly feeling more than a touch overwhelmed. She ran her hands through her hair before rubbing her forehead. "So…this has all been a test? The hexes and those awful things you said to me?"

"Miss Granger, I'm not going to coddle you and I'm not going to mislead you. You have natural and instinctual defensive non-verbal and wandless abilities. You also have the ability to throw an accomplished Legilimens out of your head, but only after you felt threatened by my presence. These are useful abilities and have probably saved your life more times than you realize. However, without the skill to consciously control them, without the mental focus to use the gifts in a more discreet and subtle way, they are hardly going to come to any real use for you."

"This can't be right. Lucius…I mean – that is to say, Mr. Malfoy – he saw into my mind when Draco was hurt. And then there was the time Dolohov cursed me, I almost died. Where was my magic then?"

"I can only speculate, Miss Granger, but when I looked into your mind just now, I was able to peek around a bit before you caught me. It wasn't until you became panicked about what I might find that you ejected me. Tell me. When Lucius cast the Legilimens, did you object? Did you want him out?"

Hermione stared at the man across from her without actually seeing him. She was trying to remember. No. She did not want him out. It had been twice. The first time she had wanted him to see what Draco had done. What had caused her to react. But he had not looked back far enough. The second time she actually asked him to do it.

After a moment, Severus continued, "As far as the rest of it… Tell me, before that first night – before you were able to unlock the door and run out – had you ever manifested wandless magic before?"

Hermione focused on him and considered. "No. That was the first time."

"And how many times has it happened since then?"

She swallowed. "Just now was the third since that first night; for a total of four."

"Hmm. It will likely continue to happen as time progresses. Particularly if you are provoked. However, I imagine it will come easier and easier and with less provocation needed as you become more acquainted with your newly tapped ability. That is just a theory, though, I can't be sure."

He studied her for a moment before continuing. "As far as the Ministry is concerned, perhaps you weren't magically strong enough at that time. That was over two years ago, after all. You've matured a great deal since then; physically, psychologically, and – most assuredly – magically. There is also the chance that your magic _did_ save you that day. After all, as far as I know, you are the only living recipient of Dolohov's signature curse."

Hermione didn't respond, she just watched the man. This was all too much.

Severus cleared his throat lightly. "The Dark Lord wishes for you to gain control of your wandless abilities, Miss Granger, and that is what we shall work on. The Occlumency is not likely a talent he will wish for you to become proficient in. Therefore, it is something… _I_ …cannot help you learn to wield."

Hermione did not miss the inflection in his voice. She looked up. "No, I imagine that Occlumency is a skill he wouldn't want anyone under his control to utilize."

He didn't respond to her observation, just merely watched her with that frustrating gaze that gave nothing away.

She wanted to hope.

She wanted to have faith.

Could he still be on her side? She had to know, but how?

"Professor, why does he want me to learn this? What exactly does he want me to do for him?"

Severus didn't answer right away. For the first time she thought she saw a flicker of concern on the man's face. It was fleeting, however, and she might have imagined it.

"I have learned never to make assumptions or predictions when it comes to the Dark Lord. Consider yourself fortunate to be alive, Miss Granger. You are the only Muggle-born he has ever spared a thought for. As for his desire to harness your ability… Well, only he knows. But whatever it is, Miss Granger, rest assured, it won't be for _your_ benefit."

Snape shifted in his chair and his voice fell to just above a whisper, his words spoken slowly. "Regardless, I anticipate a girl such as yourself – young …emotional … confused… and with the fear of death coursing through her veins on a daily basis – would have a _very_ hard time harnessing and _controlling_ such an ability." He took on a slightly arrogant air, peering down his nose as he continued, "After your erratic and emotional behavior today, as well as your obvious disdain for my person, I am even more convinced that this will be a very long, drawn out process indeed."

Hermione stared at the wizard, a rush of anger and a swell of confusion overcoming her _. Erratic and emotional?_ Disdain for his person? What was he talking about? She could certainly show him erratic and emotional, because she had been anything _but_ in her opinion. Just as she was about to snap in retaliation, it hit her.

Her heart began to race.

Excitement thrummed through her.

He wasn't taunting her, he was _advising_ her.

She gave him a very slight nod. "Well you could hardly blame my disdain, _Professor._ You lied to us. You made us all believe you were on our side! Harry hated you, but Dumbledore…he believed in you and therefore _I_ believed in you. I scolded Harry and Ron for their disrespect of you. I stood up for you!" She felt her voice start to quiver. It was easy to become emotional as all the pent-up frustration and disappointment she held for this man came bursting through her lips.

She stood and began to pace. "And this bonding potion!" She turned a steely gaze on him, the venom in her voice unmistakable. "How could you create such a disgusting thing. And to have it tied to sexual acts is just…despicable. No honorable person would create such an elixir!" As the words that spilled held more truth, she found her fury became sincerer. "You were our teacher! You were supposed to protect us, guide us. Instead Ginny, I, and countless others have been raped and forced into sexual servitude." Tears began to spill.

"Because of you, Draco beats me and rapes me…repeatedly and for show!" She closed her eyes with dread. "And the pensieve memories, the ones you confess to having seen yourself… Tell me, do you feel proud when you get your jollies watching me and who knows how many others being raped? Proud of the entertainment your invention provides?" She had stopped her pacing and was staring down at him, wanting a truthful answer.

He swallowed, and his eyes darted away from hers. Standing abruptly, he let out a breath. "The plights of Mudbloods and Blood-traitors are _hardly_ my concern. I provide instruction and guidance to students whom are of Pureblood and whom are deemed worthy by our Lord and Master." He shook out his sleeves and straightened first one cuff and then the other as he continued, "And you are mistaken, Miss Granger. Draco's behavior is not _because_ of my invention. If you think his hatred and violence would be different towards you were you not bonded to him, you are very much mistaken." He paused before adding, "I do as I am instructed, Miss Granger. What you think of me hardly matters."

Hermione suddenly felt a rush of guilt. He wasn't looking at her – he couldn't face her. It was the most telling display of the day. He was ashamed. If he was truly on her side, as she so wanted to believe, then she knew he had not created the potion willingly. If he was the man she hoped him to be, he was still putting on a show. He was still someone she could believe in. Someone she could put a little faith in. And right now, that meant he was possibly her only true ally. For even though she believed Lucius cared for her well-being, Lucius believed in blood purity. He would never turn against Voldemort. Not for himself and certainly not for her.

When Severus finally looked back at her, his sharp gaze and all tells of guilt gone, she offered him the barest of smiles. An expression only he would be able to discern, for the portraits were too far away. She saw him deflate ever so slightly.

* * *

It was then that Lucius entered the study. He looked from the reserved and expressionless face of his friend to the contemplative face of his charge. "Everything alright in here?"

Hermione rubbed her palms along her jeans. "Yes, it's been quite a lesson."

Lucius eyes glanced appraisingly down her form and back up. "It's almost five and we dine at six. Perhaps you would like to bathe and dress for dinner?"

Hermione internally rolled her eyes at his haughty tone, knowing he was playing the part for Snape's benefit. At least he didn't order her outright.

"Yes, that is a good idea," she conceded. She stood, looking at Snape, nodding in farewell. "Professor."

Severus met her eye but didn't say anything, He merely tipped his head in acknowledgment. Just as she turned to walk out, she peeked back at him. "Oh, umm. How is…Ginny?"

"Miss Weasley is quite well, Miss Granger. I shall let her know you enquired after her."

She nodded lightly, her voice just above a whisper. "Thank you, sir."

Lucius watched her leave before approaching the sideboard, his thoughts wandering to the young ginger girl as he poured them each a whisky. He walked back towards his friend, who was now sitting in the wingback chair again, and handed him his glass. He was quite certain Severus cared for his charge, he just didn't know how much.

"And how did Miss Weasley test on her MPS?" he asked in a conversational manner.

Severus took a small swallow. "A respectable small, light red center with a large, bright orange ring."

Lucius nodded. "Hmm. Above average with a bit of high potency as well." He sat in the wingback chair across from his friend. "That is _impressive_ …for a Weasley. I never took them to be anything above average in their magical prowess."

Severus' gaze was penetrating. "On the contrary, my dear Lucius. While the youngest boy never exhibited anything above mediocre ability, four of the other five boys demonstrated much more. The twins were… creative and successful with their inventions. The oldest was a curse breaker with Gringotts, the second oldest – a dragon tamer. All of them worked in competitive and stressful occupations."

Lucius watched his friend with an assessing eye. "Pity they are all dead."

"Yes…pity."

Lucius could feel the measuring gaze of his closest friend as he swirled his glass tumbler, watching the amber liquid coat the cubes of ice. Finally, the silence was broken. "Miss Granger is…powerful."

Lucius' attention immediately shot from the ice in his glass to the onyx eyes of his closest friend. After a flicker of thought, he responded, "Yes, she is."

Silence.

"Are you aware she is able to cast her wandless talents non-verbally?"

 _Of course, I know!_ He had seen it first hand in the pool. His son hadn't stood a chance. She had cast the spell forcing Draco away while underwater, no less! Lucius contemplated his response, taking a page out of his friend's tome and not displaying any tells of emotion or concern. "Really? I hadn't realized."

"How did she test?"

Lucius felt a flush of panic. Did Severus already know? Had he peeked in her mind? Probably. It's what he would have done if the tables had been turned. _Damn it!_ He should have foreseen this possibility and prepared for it. Still, he couldn't tell the truth. He couldn't admit his deceit to their Master. "She tested very strong. A solid red sphere. I sent it off to Dolohov first thing the morning after testing her."

Severus didn't respond. He simply stared at his lying friend. _How interesting._ Severus had done just as Lucius suspected. He had peeked in the girl's mind. He had been quite surprised by her display and his curiosity would not be denied. Before she had caught his intrusion and ejected him, he had seen it. A bright white marble surrounded by a ring of red. _Very strong, indeed._ Severus continued to ponder his friend's motive.

_Why would Lucius lie?_

_Why does anyone lie?_

To hide the truth.

_Why would Lucius hide the truth?_

Because he is afraid.

_And what would make Lucius afraid?_

"Does her MPS concern you? A solid red sphere is very powerful. Possibly more powerful than yourself, and most assuredly, Draco."

Lucius stared at him but didn't answer. This was a slippery slope. "Why should I be concerned?"

Severus smiled lightly. "Come, come Lucius. Don't play dumb. If the girl bests you and somehow gets away…our Lord's wrath might know no limits."

Lucius internally scoffed. If that was his only fear, he would consider himself lucky.

Severus watched his friend for a reaction. "Of course, our Lord might also decide she needs to be… watched more closely. Especially as her training continues. He might…for instance… take her on himself."

 _Ahhh_. There it was. The flash of fire in Lucius' eyes, the slight shift in his chair. Severus had his answer. Lucius didn't want to lose his prize. Which could only mean he cared for her. His suspicions were confirmed.

"What matter is that to me?" Lucius snapped as he sipped his drink. "I have commanded her not to leave. She can not escape. Her bond to myself and Draco is very strong. She was a virgin at the time of her bonding you might remember."

Severus swallowed. He did remember. It had been horrifying to watch the strong and brave young woman that was Hermione Granger be treated and abused as Draco had done. Had he not been surrounded by other members of the Dark Lords inner circle he would have turned away and not watched. But he had a role to play. An act to put on. An act very much like the blond in front of him was portraying right now.

"Well, you know best, I'm sure," Severus conceded. It didn't matter what Lucius had said; the gig was up. His friend cared for Hermione. The question was – how much? _Enough to lie to the strongest, most powerful wizard and Legilimens the world has ever known._ Severus would dare to venture that Lucius was in love with the girl.

Lucius swallowed the last of his drink. Severus knew. He was certain his friend knew he had lied. However, he also knew Severus cared or at least held concern for Hermione. Not to mention his suspicions that Severus held affection for his _own_ charge. Lucius could only hope that his friend would not betray him and inform the Dark Lord of his deceit, just as he would return the favor and keep quiet about Severus' feelings for Miss Weasley.

He internally sighed with exhaustion. How much easier it would be if he could simply talk openly with his friend, but those conversations were long gone. A thing of the past. For knowledge was power and power was something no Death Eater handed over easily to another. Not even his best friend.

"Did you realize Miss Granger is also a natural Occlumens?"

Lucius tried not to react as his heart began to pound. How could that be? He had seen in her mind. "I think you are mistaken, my friend. I have been in her head and met no resistance."

"How peculiar. Miss Granger told me as such. However, when I took a peek, I was able to only take a quick look into the past few days before she sensed my presence and evicted me."

There it was. Severus was admitting he had seen. He was admitting he knew her true MP. Lucius would think on that later. Right now, he had to wonder - could she be an Occlumens? Was Severus correct?

"I hypothesized with Miss Granger that perhaps you were able to accomplish what I could not simply because she welcomed your presence. Whereas I…was most assuredly not welcome."

Could that be it? He had been in her mind twice. The first time he was rough and harsh, quickly trying to see what had happened to Draco. But he had not looked back far enough and the second time she had asked him to peek into her mind. He had rendered her unable to speak from his abuse of her in the dungeon. Two rounds of crucio. He swallowed his self-hate and disgust. _How could you have done that to her!_ In her desperation to make him understand, she had invited him to look.

Lucius took a sip of some of the melted ice in his glass. "Well, there is a simple way to find out."

* * *

Dinner was a more formal affair as they were back in the main dining room for tonight's meal. Tender steak medallions and roasted Brussel sprouts were served alongside a creamy parmesan crusted risotto. Despite being hungry and the food appearing most appetizing, she found her nerves rendered her unable to take a bite.

The possibility that Snape was still fighting for the Light…the thought that he was trying to guide her…it was a hope she had not dared to feel in many weeks. But it was also a possibility he was very much Voldemort's wizard and was merely testing her. Perhaps Voldemort wanted to know if she was truly resigned and broken. Perhaps Snape had been sent as a test and she had failed miserably.

It was all just so confusing. The truth was she was exhausted. What she would give to not have to question the motives of every person around her. Ironically, Draco was the only one she was in consistent contact with whom she felt she could trust in what he presented. He was sadistic and cruel and hated her. She had no reason to question it. But Lucius? She had to conceive it was entirely possible he was playing her. Even though she doubted it and prayed it was not true, she would be a fool to not recognize the possibility.

When she glanced at him, she was surprised to see that his meal was untouched as well. This was a first, Lucius held a robust appetite. She watched as he caught her eyes on him and then looked about the room. She followed his gaze to see Abraxas sleeping in a portrait across the room, out of ear shot if they spoke quietly.

"How did your lesson go?" Lucius asked as he took a swallow from his wine goblet.

"He's impossible and contrary. He hexed me! Or at least he tried to. He spouted incendiary comments which he knew would upset me just to torment me. I don't see how I can learn from him." She sipped her wine. "It won't be easy. That's for certain," she added with a huff.

Lucius smiled with a touch too much condescension for her liking. "My dear, this is Severus Snape you are talking about. Did you honestly expect any different?"

She spoke loudly so that Abraxas would hear if listening. "While I concede to have lost this war and admit I have no desire to fight against it, it would be really nice to simply be left alone. I can only imagine the Dark Lord has a task in mind for me and I dread to ponder what it might be. I wish I didn't haven't this…ability. Maybe then I would hold no interest to him. Maybe then I wouldn't be bonded to men who…" She met his concerned gaze and flicked a look at Abraxas before continuing, "…men who take such joy in their use of me."

Lucius felt a sting of pain at her words, but then he saw it. He saw her attention on his father and then back to him. She was acting a part. This was not something she had done so enthusiastically before. Why the change?

He delicately kept his eyes on hers as he internally whispered, "Legilimens." He tried to be as subtle as possible, not wanting to alert her to his presence. He would like to see for himself what had transpired in their lesson that day. He was disappointed and thrilled at the same time when her irises flashed with anger and he was shut out of her thoughts, a door slamming in his face.

What was he doing? She felt it! She felt him poke in her head. Why? Was he testing her? Had Severus told him of her Occlumency? Regardless, she didn't like it. Was invading her body not enough? Must these men invade her mind as well?

She watched in undeniable curiosity as Lucius visibly relaxed in front of her. He picked up his fork, scooping up some risotto and then slicing into one of his medallions. When his fork was laden with the harmonizing flavors, he took his first bite and then a quick second. It seemed his appetite had returned. He offered her a small smile as he lifted his wine glass. "Eat some of your dinner, Hermione. We are heading to the stables after dessert."

 _What?_ He was pleased. It was obvious. Pleased she had Occluded him. And then it hit her. Severus was right. She was an Occlumens. She had done it again. She had controlled it as well. This meant she could keep secrets. And Lucius was pleased?

Dessert could not come fast enough. Hermione was desperate to know what he had to say.

* * *

Hermione watched with a smile as Lucius was once again greeted by the large, white dog, Jupiter. She laughed as Lucius fell to the ground, despite still wearing his formal dinner robes, and allowed the dog to pounce on top of him, kissing the wizard's face with big, sloppy, wet kisses. "Yes, yes. I've missed you as well. I won't wait so long to come see you again. Perhaps tomorrow would be a good day for a ride?"

Lucius pushed himself up and brushed off his trousers with a huge, warm smile on his face. "Do you ride Miss Granger? Horseback?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I never have. I did ride on the back of a thestral once. He was invisible to me at the time."

He shrugged. "Not quite the same, but a start. Would you like to learn? The grounds are beautiful. There are trails along the lake and into the woods. That part of the property ends at a small river about ten miles from the house. It's a very enjoyable and scenic ride."

"Well, yes, of course. But Lucius…please tell me. Is there a reason you have brought me out here tonight? Has something happened?"

His smile was radiant, and she felt her knees go weak at the beauty of it.

"I'll say." He replied, his smile unwavering. "You, my darling, brilliant, and exquisite little witch, are an Occlumens. Which means you can keep the Dark Lord out of your head. Which means I am much better able to protect you from him. There can be less…secrets between us."

Hermione smiled in return, unable to not respond to his enthusiasm. She still did not grasp why this made him so very happy. What did he wish to tell her that she did not know?

Holding his hand out to her, he led her into an empty stall and sat on a bale of hay, gesturing for her to join him. She smoothed out the back of her dress and smiled lightly. When she sat, he let out a small exhale of air. "I did something very foolish, Hermione. It was a gamble that could have cost us both our lives."

She stilled completely, a bit of horror creeping over her. "What did you do?" she whispered.

"The night of your magic testing, after you fell asleep, I sent _my_ results to Dolohov and labeled them as yours."

Hermione's jaw fell in stunned surprise. "Why? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because, Hermione. You tested on par with the Dark Lord! The coloring is slightly different, but there is no question your results are very similar."

"That's not…that can't be! How is that possible?" She paused. "I mean, I knew my results were strong, but you didn't tell me they were that strong!"

Lucius' expression had become tense, the look of concern in his eyes indisputable. "I didn't know what to think. I… don't know what he would do if he knew you were so powerful. I wasn't willing to find out. He might…he might have wanted to bond with you… mate with you…sire a son with you… or maybe… simply Avada you."

She watched his Adams apple bobble as his focus moved from the tackle hanging on the wall to her face. "I couldn't risk…that. I couldn't – " He broke himself off to seemingly collect his thoughts. "So, I sent my results and labeled them as yours. I was afraid to tell you because if he looked into your mind, he would see my betrayal and I would be dead." He stood and began to pace. "I didn't take Severus into consideration, however. I… I think he knows. I think he saw it in your mind before you tossed him out." He thought for a moment. "I don't think he'll betray me. I don't believe he'll tell our Lord. But I can't be sure."

Hermione's mind was spinning. If she held any doubt that Lucius genuinely cared for her, it was obliterated in this moment. Standing slowly, she walked towards him. He paused as she approached and when she wrapped her arms around him, he only hesitated a second before returning her embrace.

After a minute Hermione spoke, having hesitated because she wasn't sure. "Lucius, I think…I think Severus is trying to protect me." She pulled back from him and looked up into his stormy grey eyes. "I want you to look in my mind and see the conversation he and I had today. See for yourself. You know him so much better than I. It's not that I think he is betraying you or…your psychopathic Lord," Lucius chuckled, "but I think he might actually hold some concern for me."

"Alright, show me."

Hermione kept her irises on his as he gently probed. This time, because she had something to show him, she was able to see it as well. He stopped watching when he saw himself enter into the memory at the end of the lesson. His arms slid up to hers, rubbing up and down. "I think you are correct, Hermione. I think he was advising you a course of action and your little explosion at the end there will give him something to show our Lord. He'll see your rage and distrust of Severus and will understand if your training…takes time."

"Would he send someone else to teach me?"

"No, I don't think so. Severus is very powerful, and his wandless magic is almost as strong as the Dark Lord's. It's not a common ability and most are erratic in their skill to wield it. Severus is really the best option to teach you. Unless he decides to teach you himself."

Hermione cringed at the thought. When Lucius felt her shiver, he pulled her closer. "Are you cold? We should probably head back."

Hermione tilted her head back from his chest and met his gaze once again; he froze when she pressed onto her toes and peppered two soft kisses onto his mouth. It was like a match was thrown into an oil well. One hand grabbed the back of her head and the other splayed across her back, pushing her closer as his mouth claimed hers dominantly. Their tongues wrestled as their hands groped, prodded, and stroked.

His voice was breathless, and his pupils dilated with desire. "I want you, but only if you want me. It's not for the bond. It's for me…it's for you. I want you, Hermione."

"Yes, Lucius. Yes!"

Hands worked fast as clothing was quickly off and tossed aside.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Both Hermione and Lucius froze at the sound of Draco's taunting voice. Hermione closed her eyes in foreboding. She felt Lucius' hands slide down to her naked bum, where he gave her a quick slap. "What do you want, Draco. Can't you see I'm busy?" He then grabbed Hermione's hair and forced her to her knees. It didn't hurt her, he wasn't being rough. He looked down at her. "You know what to do." His face was marred with a sneer, but the look in his eyes was apologetic. "Do it."

Hermione knew he was doing this for Draco's benefit. Draco couldn't know that Lucius cared for her. Lucius needed her to help him convince Draco that this was just him using her. She swallowed as she looked at his thick cock before her. She had never done this with Lucius before – only Draco. When she saw his length softening, she quickly slipped her lips around him and began to work him with the same techniques Draco preferred.

"Father, you've had her for days. It's my turn. The bond is making me jittery. Hurry up already."

Lucius' tone became abrupt and authoritative. "Draco, go to the house. I will deliver Miss Granger to you when we are finished."

Draco sighed with irritation. "Fine. But hurry. After I fuck her, we are going to see the Dark Lord. My mission was successful and little miss cock sucker is in for a mighty big surprise."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ch 20 is half done...ch 21 is pretty much done. (Blame me, ch 20 is mine, Snow's on a roll and has 21 almost done - just edits and BETA). STILL -- planning to post Ch 20 next week Weds/Thurs! I WILL get it done!
> 
> This is a particularly rough chapter. Please don't hate us.
> 
> Love, Lissa (and Snow)

 

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen  
BETA: Raynepheonix2**

* * *

Lucius gently loosened his grip on Hermione’s head to stop her ministrations on his rapidly deflating cock the moment Draco had Apparated back to the Manor. He felt extremely discombobulated. Draco’s presence has taken him from hot and wanting to frigid in the matter of seconds. The girl kneeling before him had been a writhing mass of ecstasy in his arms only to freeze in horror when his son’s voice had broken through their lust-fueled haze.

He forewent the use of his wand and made the decision that helping her dress by hand may give her time to calm.  As he clothed himself similarly, he watched her as she smoothed her dress before turning to face him. Her face was epically stoic, but her eyes held a wild terror. His stomach dropped to the soles of his feet as he saw the tears fill her eyes when he returned her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. For the first time, he didn’t question why he apologized to her. He was sorry for all of it. For letting Draco catch them (he would have to reset the wards to include the stables and grounds), for the fact that he was going to hand-deliver her to the unrecognizable man he called his son, for the fact that Draco obviously had something even more awful planned for her after he raped and tortured her again.

“I know.” Her words were strangled, and he couldn’t help his actions. He pulled her tightly into his arms and pressed a wordless kiss to the top of her head.

“I will not be far away, but I will not be able to go with you to the Dark Lord unless I am summoned.”

“I understand,” she whispered. The sound was muffled against his chest.

He stood with her wrapped in his embrace for what felt like an eternity. Something would not let him be the first to let go – he had to allow her to be the one to pull away. He wanted her to take the strength she needed from him as she was the one who would have to endure the next hours…he would just be a useless bystander.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said finally as she disentangled herself from him.

Lucius held out his arm and within moments they were standing outside of Draco’s bedroom door. When she started to tremble uncontrollably, he almost scooped her up and Apparated them away. How could he keep allowing this to happen to her? How could he not? If they ran, they’d be hunted. He had the mark; he could be traced.

He heard her words again – was that really only days ago? _“You could give me a wand and a portkey to Paris.”_ Could he die for her? He just…he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he could give his life for the girl. Put under the strain of torture… He scoffed internally. He was a coward, and he feared that he would give her up if tortured.

“When it’s over, I will be here. I will have Tinny pay attention, she will call if things get out of hand again,” he promised in a low, rushed voice.

She gave him a very weak, tremulous smile before shooing him with a hand motion.

Lucius watched in wonder as she steeled herself and pushed the bedroom doors open. She didn’t look back as she disappeared inside.

* * *

Hermione was terrified. After what happened with Draco in the pool room, she could finally admit that he scared her out of her mind. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but the weak, sniveling boy she had known at Hogwarts was completely gone. In his place was this sadistic young man. A young man who was much larger and stronger than her physically, and who hated her with a depth she didn’t deserve and would never, ever be able to understand.

Hermione crossed the room and removed her dress, leaving her in a black satin bra with matching stockings. She knelt next to his bed with her hands in her lap and her eyes on the ground. She could hear him in the bathroom and hoped to help herself by being completely submissive to him. She would call him sir, she wouldn’t look him in the eye unless he commanded it…and she would keep her temper under control.

The only thing she had going for her in this situation was that, if he was going to kill her – like when he had almost drowned her in the pool, she would be able to stop him using wandless magic.

“How does my father get you to behave like such a good little slut?” Draco drawled. Hermione jumped, and her trembling only increased. Her stomach roiled, and she worried she would be sick. “Answer me truthfully.”

“He is kind to me, sir” she told him hurriedly.

Draco made a disgusted sound in the back of this throat. “Well, that’s just no fun. Why would I be _kind_ to you? You deserve what you get. Don’t you think?”

“Yes sir,” she answered automatically. If her body shook any harder, she’d fly into a million pieces. She tried to calm herself by pulling breaths in through her nose. _In – one, two, three, four; out – one, two, three, four._

“Are you scared of me, Mudblood?” He was standing in front of her now. She could see bare feet, legs with wiry blonde hair, and the hem of a towel.

She closed her eyes, and the tears of terror she’d been keeping at bay slipped down her cheeks. She cursed herself internally for her fear. It wasn’t like it was irrational, however. This…monster…had done nothing but torment her and brutalize her from the first day. “Yes sir,” she whispered, hating the sound of her own voice at that moment.

“Good.”

Hermione was shocked when he walked away from her without touching her, but her relief was short lived. “Stand and do something with that mop of a rat’s nest you call hair. I need it out of my way.”

She despised the way she scrambled to her feet. She had nothing to secure her hair with and didn’t know what to do with it. Hermione gathered it in her hands and twisted it in a messy bun on top of her head. Then she held it there with her mind whirling as to how to pin it in place. Quietly, when she realized Draco had disappeared into his wardrobe, she called for Tinny who appeared immediately.

“Tinny,” she whispered quickly. “The young master has ordered my hair up and out of the way, I have nothing to fasten it. Could you –?” She didn’t have to finish the request. Tinny snapped her fingers and instantly, Hermione’s hair was secured in place. “Thank you, my darling little elf,” she told Tinny with sincere appreciation.

Tinny was gone by the time Draco returned from his closet. She watched him through lowered eyelashes as he dragged a chair around from his desk and pointed at it. “Sit, Mudblood.” She moved to it and sat with as little sound as possible.

“Incarcerous!” he snarled the moment her bottom touched the seat of the chair. She whimpered as her fear renewed and the trembling (that had calmed somewhat as nothing awful had happened yet) grew even more pronounced as her arms, legs, and torso were secured to the chair with bindings that flew out of his wand.

“Do you know what the Dark Lord told me tonight, Mudblood?” He paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, before he continued without an answer from her. “He told me that you tested powerfully…more than powerfully. At the highest potency there is without matching the Dark Lord, himself.” The tone of his voice was full of disgust, it was obvious that Draco found her magical ability abhorrent.

“I was taunted… _taunted_ …before of a room full of Death Eaters because you could…because you _have_ overpowered me.” He stopped talking again, but his breathing had grown erratic with obvious fury. He took a moment to calm himself before he continued, “I have pleased him, though, Mudblood. I’ve brought him a wonderful gift. A gift that took me these past weeks to track down, collect, and return to him. It was no small feat – this task. Because of this, because of my dedication to him, he had a gift _for me_.” Here, he held out a simple necklace. It was a ring of some sort of crystal and was very, very pale purple in color. Possibly goblin- or Elvin-made.

“Do you know what this is, Mudblood?”

“No sir,” she whispered, looking at curiously.

“This is a collar,” he murmured. His tone had changed exponentially and caused a chill to course through her. “Goblin forged crystal tanzanite…do you know what it will do?”

“No sir.”

He let a laugh; a sadistic laugh of pleasure. “The brightest witch of the age doesn’t know the answer to my question?”

“I don’t, sir.” Her voice sounded small to her own ears.

“Well, let me be the first to enlighten you… This necklace will bind your magic, Mudblood.”

Her eyes flew to his in horror. Bind her…bind her magic?! He grinned at her maliciously, knowing her thoughts exactly. “Please no,” she was unable to stop herself from gasping the request.

“Oh yes,” he answered as he slowly moved in front of her. One long-fingered hand slid gently around her neck and she was sure he could feel her heart thrumming a trillion beats a second. He gave a gentle squeeze before releasing her in order to use both hands to open the collar and slip it over her flesh. It was cool and oddly flexible, but that didn’t last.

The moment the crystal touched behind her neck, it burned hot, became rigid, and tightened so it dug just slightly uncomfortably into her skin. “Stunning,” Draco whispered before he pressed a mocking kiss to her forehead. Hermione held herself very still when all she wanted to do was jerk away. He had whispered it like an endearment. As if he were giving her a gift she should be appreciative of.

Then her thoughts were ripped away as the ring of gemstone grew uncomfortably hot, she gasped loudly as she flailed against the bindings, wanting to raise her hands and rip the necklace away. Just before it felt as though it would scorch her skin to ribbons, it cooled and turned into a cold lead weight against her throat.

“If you try and use magic against anyone, it will heat as it gathers the energy. As soon as it collects the energy away from you, so you’re unable to use it, it will cool and harden. Only people who have the Dark Mark can remove it.” He watched her watch him with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Suddenly, his face cleared, all trace of evilness gone as he amicably suggested. “Let’s get started, shall we? Best not to keep the Dark Lord waiting.”

Her mind reeling from shock that her ability to use her wandless magic had just been completely stripped from her, Hermione didn’t even think to fight him as he cancelled the Incarceration Hex and pulled her to stand. For the first time, he removed what was left of her clothing – probably because of the vacant look in her eye that told him she wasn’t finished processing what had just happened.

The next time Hermione was aware of what was going on, she found herself face down on the bed. Her feet were still planted on the floor, but her hands were bound at the small of her back. “I’ve been craving your ass again, Granger,” he was murmuring in that twisted, seductive voice of his. “No numbing creams this time, you’ve had opportunities to get used to being taken like this, I’m sure. My father certainly has had you all to himself for many, many hours. I will use lube, though. More for my pleasure than yours.”

Even though her heart rate accelerated again, Hermione tried to force herself to relax. She knew this would be awful, but so far, the wretch was actually being somewhat gentle with her. He hadn’t slapped her or shoved her. _He’s taken away your **magic** , Hermione!_

She felt the spell that indicated he had cleared out her bowels, and she heard him lather himself in what must be lubrication gel – the wet, sloshy sound of him stroking himself. He lined himself up at her rear entrance. “Brace yourself, _darling_.” His tone had turned evil again, and he mocked her with the endearment. Suddenly, she knew she had been wrong to feel even fractionally at ease. “I _won’t_ be gentle.”

She was unable to hold back the scream as he entered her.

* * *

She was sobbing uncontrollably with the pain of his assault when he rolled off her. She had never felt so ashamedin all her life. He had used little slicing hexes on her while he had painfully taken her arse and blood dripped from the cuts that were literally all over her body. Her breasts were once again covered in bite bruises and she could feel the stickiness of blood and ejaculate leaking out of her.

“Get dressed,” he growled, taking her by the arm and tossing her to the floor where her pile of clothing lay. She desperately tried to control her breath, to stop the sobs. She knew he was taking her to see Voldemort now – but she didn’t know why.

Shakily, she dressed herself. She couldn’t stop herself from wincing when she noticed blood from the dozens of cuts that littered her body were seeping through the gown. The moment she slipped her shoes on, he grabbed her roughly by the elbow, turned on the spot, and Apparated them with no warning.

She dropped to her knees the moment they arrived and her stomach – upset from the entire experience with Draco and rolling because of the side-along Apparition – heaved and she expelled her dinner in front of her the moment they landed.

“Watch it. Merlin you are a disgusting little cunt!” he snarled at he as he back away from her pool of sick.

She didn’t respond, just sucked in deep breaths through her mouth before she spat forcefully and wiped the sick from her chin with the back of her hand. She forced herself to stand and follow him. They appeared to be at some large, ancient house. She felt like she was going to vomit all over again when she saw the surname “Lestrange” twisted into the iron of the gates. She forced herself to focus, to follow Draco’s white-blond head as they made their way inside and twisted through the hallways of the estate. Within a few strides, he was meters ahead of her. She flinched when he looked over his shoulder at her and, noticing how far behind she was, let out a string of expletives.

She froze and shrank back when he turned on his heel and stalked back to her. Once he reached her, he grabbed her arm roughly and literally dragged her after him while ignoring her pitiful mewls of discomfort. The hex slices burned with each breath she took, her stomach rolled with the movement, and her bottom protested each step.

* * *

Draco was unusually quiet as he led Hermione along the maze of rooms and hallways. His bruising grip on her forearm left her no choice but to keep up with the quick stride of his long and determined legs. She realized they must be getting close to their destination when she began to hear the soft baritone of male voices. When Draco halted before a set of heavy French doors, she peeked up to see that his face was tense, and his eyes were hard and focused. Looking back in front of her, the doors were somewhat intimidating with large brass handles and intricate vine carvings along their panels.

Draco let out a deep exhale of air. It was obvious he was on edge. She wondered if his mission had been some sort of test. He certainly wasn’t exhibiting his normal cocky swagger. He spared her a glance, his lip turned up into a sneer. “Don’t speak unless spoken to and don’t move unless instructed.”

Hermione couldn’t help but to nod in understanding, his nervousness had her almost in a panic. She watched as he tapped his wand on one of the handles and whispered his name. The ominous doors swung open revealing a large antechamber where several witches and wizards were convened. It was quite a large crowd which included, much to Hermione’s relief, Lucius and Severus. Lucius must have received a summons, after all. The wizards glanced at her entrance but paid no interest before looking away and resuming their intimate conversation. Hermione couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at their disinterest in her arrival. It was likely for show, but it still stung. Draco dragged her over to join them.

Hermione had to keep herself from cringing when the sneering drawl of the Lucius Malfoy of old greeted her ears. She had forgotten he could sound that way. “Draco, really. You could have allowed the girl to put on a clean dress and fix her face and hair. What _will_ the others think?” Frankly, she had forgotten he could look that way as well – snooty…haughty… infallible. It reminded her of all those years ago at the bookstore in Diagon Alley. It was hard to believe that was only five years ago. It felt like a lifetime.

Feeling self-conscious, Hermione peeked down at herself. Her dress was littered with patches of dried blood from Draco’s earlier torture. The cuts were still painful as they had not been healed. She had been too distracted to notice, but now they were screaming at her. She looked back up at Lucius to find he was watching her. His face gave nothing away, but his eyes…his eyes met hers for the briefest of flashes and she could see the concern in them. It was a such a simple thing, that flash of worry, but it calmed her more than she could express. He was here with her and he would do his best to protect her, she knew that. Even if his best would still be the absolute minimum.

At his father’s rebuke, Draco looked at Hermione with his hard and glowering gaze. He scrutinized her face and hair before he glanced down to her wrinkled and blood-stained dress. With a slight roll of his eyes, he whispered, “Tinny!”

Instantly a loud pop was heard at their feet, and the small elf was looking up with large and nervous eyes.

“Fix that,” Draco ordered, gesturing towards her as though she were merely the wobbly leg on a table.

She offered Tinny a tentative smile in thanks when the elf snapped her fingers, and Hermione felt the hair shift on her head. Unable to see herself, she could only guess by the look on the men’s faces that she was presentable. She glanced down and found her midnight blue dress to now be as perfect as when she first put it on. The blood stains were gone, however the cuts remained hidden underneath and were still painful. They must have clotted over as there was no fresh blood leaking through the fabric.

With a second pop, the elf was gone.

When she looked back up towards Lucius, she found his focus was on her neck. She immediately reached up and felt her new collar. The necklace that was binding her magic. His eyes moved to hers for the merest of seconds before shooting to Draco.

“A new collar for our charge, I see. I don’t recall you asking my permission for such a thing.”

“I hardly need your permission to do as our Lord instructs.”

It was Snape who responded. “The Dark Lord commanded this?”

Draco looked away from the doors to his Godfather with a victorious grin on his face. “He - and I agree wholeheartedly - feels she needs to be kept in her place. She cannot be allowed to have flashes of such magic. She is a Mudblood, she doesn’t _deserve_ such a skill.”

Snape’s expression was inscrutable as he studied his Godson for a moment. “I think, Draco, you might be misinterpreting something of great importance. This collar you seem so pleased about speaks more of your lack of ability to control her than anything else.” He looked about the room. “You seem terribly pleased that your captive needs to have her magic bound in order for you to… _contain_ her.”

Hermione couldn’t help the internal jump for joy at the sudden pained and frustrated look on Draco’s face. She felt a flush of pride for herself and a huge amount of gratitude towards her old professor. She peeked up to find he was looking around the room again as though bored.

Draco on the other hand, became fidgety. It was obvious that Severus’ words disturbed him greatly. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he kept his attention on a second set of doors which were flanked by two masked Death Eaters.

“Draco, why so nervous?” Lucius asked with what, on the surface, seemed to be mild interest.

Draco shot his father a self-important glare. “You’ll find out soon enough, Father. That is if that blasted door ever opens and allows us entry.”

Hermione didn’t miss the shared look between the two older wizards. They seemed as in the dark as she was.

All heads turned towards the second set of doors when they flew open, allowing a confident and smirking Bellatrix Lestrange to exit. When she spotted Draco, she sauntered over. Ignoring Hermione completely, and barely sparing a nod for Lucius and Severus, she fawned over her nephew. “Ohh, Drakie. I’m so proud of you.”

To Hermione’s astonishment, Draco practically blushed at his aunt’s praise. “Thanks, Aunt Trix. I couldn’t have done it without Uncle Rod’s help.”

She practically purred as she stroked his cheek with a long, red nail. “Well then, be sure to give credit where credit is due before our Lordship.”

“Of course,” he agreed readily.

“In that case, he is waiting for you.”

“Excellent,” Draco offered in return. “Are you coming to watch the show?”

Bellatrix smiled playfully. “Of course, nephew. I wouldn’t miss your,” her focus shifted to Hermione, “big moment.”

Hermione could feel Lucius tense beside her. Clearly, he was apprehensive.  For her part, Hermione was part terrified and part curious. Draco had implied multiple times that she would take great interest in his mission. While she knew it would likely be something truly horrible, she couldn’t help her own morbid curiosity. Snape was the only one who seemed unfazed and disinterested in the conversation.

Draco grabbed her arm roughly before turning to Lucius. “Are you coming Father? Severus?”

Both men nodded their assent and followed.

They entered what was essentially a throne room. It was a large, rectangular space, with huge stone fireplaces adorning the long walls to the entrance’s right and left. Straight ahead, at the end of the room was a large, regal chair where Voldemort sat in voluminous and heavy black robes. Hermione couldn’t be sure, but it seemed the self-appointed king looked smaller somehow. He was still terrifying to look at, but it was as though his robes were too big for him.

As the small group walked the length of the long room, Hermione felt more and intimidated by the space. It had a medieval feel to it and she found herself wondering just how old this Manor was. This particular room was very castle like. The brick and stone walls were all covered with large, wool tapestries while the floor as adorned with various rugs, animal skins, and fur. From the ceiling hung six monstrous, multi-tiered iron chandeliers. Each arm held a wax candle. Large sconces were spaced at even intervals along the walls and between the hangings. Flames and shadows danced as though playing hide and seek.

As they moved closer to the monster whose audience they were seeking, Hermione felt her terror rise again and struggled to keep up with the young blond sadist. _Why am I here? What do I have to do with this? Is Draco going to kill me? Is murdering me his big moment?_ Or was she here to witness the death of another? Perhaps she would be the first victim of a new potion or hex? Something Draco created maybe? She knew she should stop trying to guess; she was only making things worse.

When they were about ten feet from the dais, Draco fell to his knees as did Lucius, Snape, and Bellatrix. A hard pull on her arm had Hermione on her knees as well.

“Ahh, Draco. Your big night has finally arrived. Your…punishment for your little Mudblood. I see you have brought Lucius and Severus with you…how delightful.” His eyes then moved to Bellatrix.  “Back so soon, Bella?” He gestured to a pillow to the left of his chair. “Here my pet, sit beside me.” Hermione knew without question the witch was stark raving mad when she eagerly rushed to her master’s side and kneeled on the pillow as though it was the happiest moment of her life.

Hermione internally flinched when the monster’s thin and spidery hand reached out and stroked Bellatrix’s head. As though he could read Hermione’s mind, he smiled grotesquely to show yellow teeth the color of mustard. “Lucius tells me you are coming to accept your place in this new world. Does he speak truthfully? Are you prepared to end your defiance?”

Hermione’s mouth was bone dry. “I…yes, sir. I humbly apologize for my past behavior. My only wish is to not give offense and to be of some small use to your Lordship.” The words tasted like ash. She hated the sound of them. She hated to submit, even if it _was_ a lie. She could feel Lucius relax a touch as he remained kneeling to her right. Draco, who was to her left, let out a small indignant scoff.

“You have something to add, young Draco?”

The younger Malfoy kept his head bowed. “She still fights, my Lord. She still resists her new world.”

“Ahh yes, Lucius wrote to me of your latest…scuffle. However, she is collared now. I hardly see how that will be a problem going forward.”

Suddenly Hermione was struck with a new panic. With her magic bound, would she still be able to Occlude? What if he looked into her mind and saw her true magic sphere?

“Besides, Lucius doesn’t seem to encounter the same struggles that you do. Therefore, she will remain collared when under your charge. Lucius, however, can choose whether he wishes her to remain so when in her presence.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Lucius responded reverently.

It took all her control not to laugh at the insult. Draco had to be fuming. She would likely pay for it later, but she would enjoy his misery while she could.

“This all leads us to why we are here.” His voice rang out with a false resigned air to it. “It saddens me that it has come to this, but Draco has a right to punish you for your assaults on his person, Hermione. You are his to do with as he chooses, and you are not allowed to fight him.

She hated the sound of her name coming out of his mouth. _Call me Mudblood. Call me whore. Call me **anything** , but please don’t make me cringe at my own name._

Then his words hit her – she was here for a punishment. A public one. And it involved Draco’s mission.

Suddenly, she knew. _Oh God! No!_ Her eyes welled with tears as the worst punishment came to mind. Her body began to tremble, and she broke out in a cold sweat. _Please let me be wrong!_

“Well, Draco. It is time.” The despot announced ominously. “Bring them in, Wormtail.” He then waved his hand dismissively at Draco and his entourage. “You may stand.”

Hermione’s legs were like rubber. She felt weak. Sick. It was Lucius who reached down and cupped her upper arm. “Stand, Miss Granger.” The bond forced her to find the strength and, with his help, she made it to her feet.

She closed her eyes, praying that by some miracle she was mistaken. A small voice, the voice of reason, told her it was impossible. How would Draco even _find_ them. She could feel the blond’s hateful and expectant glare on her but refused to look.

It felt as though her guts had fallen to the floor as all hope vanished suddenly; she would recognize their footsteps anywhere. Her parents, now known as Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Unable to stop herself, she turned her head and watched their approach with agonized eyes.

Their expressions held confusion as they glanced about the faces in the room. The pain of them not recognizing her was overshadowed by her fear for their lives. Their focus paused on Draco before moving toward the grotesque _thing_ on the modified throne. Hermione didn’t fault her mother for her inability to conceal her shock at the snake man before her.

Hermione’s first tear fell when her father spoke.

“Steven, what’s going on?” His questioning eyes were back on Draco.

Hermione couldn’t help but look up at the younger Malfoy to find he was smirking maliciously. “First off, call me Draco. It’s my real name, after all.”

“Dell? What’s going on?” Hermione’s mother asked quietly.

“My question exactly,” he responded. “Young man? Please explain yourself.”

Draco’s malevolent smile grew wider. “With pleasure. You see, you are here…not as my guest…not to spend a weekend with the financier of your new, stupid little bed and breakfast. You are here as prisoners. Prisoners whose very lives hang on the balance of the compliance and servitude of…your daughter here to my right.” His confidence grew as he spoke. He was so pleased with himself it made Hermione sick.

“Daughter?” The Grangers’ eyes were suddenly on her. There was no recognition or understanding in them. “You are mistaken…Steven, or whatever your name is…we don’t have a daughter,” Wendell rebutted.

The gleeful laugh and accompanying clap from the demon spawn sitting on the throne caused all eyes to turn his way. “Oh, Draco! Such entertainment you manage to provide!” He looked down at Bellatrix. “Do be a dear and allow the others from the foyer to enter. I think our young Draco deserves an audience in recognition of his hard work.”  Bellatrix was on her feet quickly and dashed off on her task.

He looked back at Draco. “How did you find them?”

Draco bowed his head in servitude. “No task is too great when requested by My Lord. I enlisted the guidance of Rodolphus. His tracker abilities are well known.”

“Yes, yes. Please continue.” He gestured back towards Hermione’s parents, clearly more interested in the show than Draco’s actual response.

Hermione heard the clacking of heels and boots as more Death Eaters and recruits entered the large room. She stared at her parents with apologetic eyes as their confusion and fear continued to mount.

Hermione’s mother’s voice was panicked. “Please! What is going on?”

Draco turned to Hermione. “Why don’t you explain, Mudblood. They are _your_ parents after all.”

* * *

Lucius was stunned and, what was worse, he was essentially paralyzed. He could do nothing. It was Narcissa all over again. He tried to maintain his composure and held his Occlumency without pause. He couldn’t risk his feelings on the matter discovered but behind those shields his concern for Hermione had him wishing he could pull her into his arms and take her far away, hide her, and protect her. He looked back towards his Lord. No, it would never work. He would be found; by Rodolphus or another of the bloodhounds amongst the Death Eater ranks.

He watched in silent support as Hermione did as Draco said. She turned towards her parents who obviously held no recollection of her. What was worse, their irritation and anger were only slightly overshadowed by their fear.

His eyes fell on Hermione’s mother. It was uncanny how much Hermione looked like her. The shape of her face, her mouth and nose…but it was the eyes – a warm and chocolatey brown. They were expressive and showed the same vulnerability that Hermione’s often held despite her best efforts to conceal that side of herself. He glanced down her figure and it was like looking into a crystal ball. This was what Hermione would look like in another thirty years. A slightly heavier frame, but not fat. Hips that were shapely beneath a slim waist. Hermione’s mother was a lovely woman.

Lucius then glanced at Hermione’s father and could see where the hair came from. Before he could make any more comparisons, he was pulled from his observations when Hermione tentatively spoke. Her voice was slightly shaky but became more grounded as the words spilled from her lips. “Draco is telling you the truth. My name is Hermione Granger. I’m your daughter. You don’t remember me because your memories were modified so that you would forget you had a child. I did it to protect you.” She looked about the room. “From this.”

It was Snape who said what Lucius was thinking. “Perhaps, the best course of action is to reverse the memory charm.”

Hermione looked to her right in response to the black-haired wizard. “I…I don’t know how. I always intended to learn…if I survived, that is. Regardless, with this collar on…I have no magic.”

“Magic?” Wendell started to laugh. “This is all a joke, right?” He looked at his wife. “Any minute now someone will jump out and yell, _‘Surprise, you’re on candid camera!”_

Monica didn’t laugh, she just kept staring at Hermione. Lucius noticed her forehead crinkled just like Hermione’s when Hermione was trying to figure something out. Her voice was soft, just above a whisper. “I’ve seen you before. In my dreams.” Her eyes began to well. “I always wanted a daughter. When I was in college, I decided that if I ever had one, she would be named Hermione.” She swallowed. “I love Shakespeare, you see.”

Hermione began to cry. “I know you do, Mum. You used to read it to me every night when I was a little girl.”

It was then that Monica’s tears began to fall. “I dreamt that. I dreamt about reading to a little girl who looked just like me.” Her eyes shot to her husband’s. “Dell, look. _Look_ at her.”

Lucius could tell Hermione was barely keeping it together. He watched as Hermione’s father began to believe; began to understand it might be true. The room was dead silent – all eyes and ears were glued to the drama unfolding.

“This is all very touching, but let’s move along shall we?” Voldemort’s words caused all focus to shoot his way. He gestured to Severus. “Severus, you do it. Restore their memories so that we can speed this process along.”

Hermione looked back towards her prior professor, desperation in her eyes.

Lucius rather hoped the wizard would be unsuccessful. It would only make Hermione’s misery worse if her parents remembered her before they were tortured and likely killed. He had not missed his son’s earlier statement that they were kidnapped to ensure Hermione’s best behavior, but Lucius knew the Dark Lord far better than Draco. It was unlikely the Granger’s would live to see dawn. There were far too many Death Eaters about…and recruits; recruits who were chomping at the bit for a chance to prove just how depraved and creative they could be with Muggle torture.

Severus stepped forward while drawing out his wand. “Keep your eyes open,” he commanded softly at Hermione’s father as he directed his wand at him.

Lucius could see the struggle on the man’s face. He clearly didn’t know whether to agree or fight. When his eyes dipped to his daughter’s, Lucius could see the flash of resignation. “Alright,” he responded.

It was silent as Severus stared into Wendell Wilkins’ eyes. He maintained his focus as he spoke to Hermione. “Impressive, Miss Granger. A scaena quattuor obliviation. This is Master charm level work.”

Lucius was once again stunned. A scaena quattuor oblivation was the deepest and most difficult of them all. It would wipe out only the memories of a specific person, while weaving through the mind and filling the holes with information that kept gaps from becoming troublesome. It was highly complex and impressive magic. Especially for a teenage Muggle-born. The murmurings from around the room proved that others felt the same way.

“Ahh, what a treasure you are Miss Granger,” Voldemort crooned. For the first time, all eyes remained on the action before them instead if turning towards the megalomaniac.

It was then that Lucius noticed his son out of his periphery. Draco was irritated and highly impatient. He wanted to get on with his torture. He wanted to break Hermione and turn her into a shell of the woman she was. Lucius swore to himself he would not let his son succeed.

Hermione, in turn, made no response. She simply kept her focus on her father. After another minute, Severus slid his wand into his sleeve and stepped back.

The transformation was instant. Wendell Wilkins no longer existed, and David Granger fell to his knees as a sob escaped from his chest. “Hermione?”

Hermione flew into her father’s arms, weeping as he held her and rocked her. “Oh, my darling daughter. My little pumpkin. What have we done? What have your mother and I allowed you to get yourself mixed up in?” His words caused Hermione to sob harder.

Hermione’s mother looked from her husband and estranged daughter to Severus. Her plea was desperate. “Please! Give me my daughter back!”

Severus stepped towards Monica, once again reversing an impressive scaena quattour obliviation. When he was finished, Hermione’s mother rushed towards her daughter and Draco made his move. A flick of his wand blasted Hermione across the room and away from her mother’s pending embrace. She crashed into a stand with a sculptured bust, causing it to topple over. She let out a squeal when the heavy piece landed on her leg.

“Hermione!” Jane Granger screamed and started to run across the room towards her daughter.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Draco said in a sing-song voice. Another flick of his wand caused Hermione’s mother to fall backwards.

“Jane!” The muggle man bellowed, dashing to his wife and assisting her to stand.

Draco surprised Lucius with his good sense when he turned to the Dark Lord and asked, “Any requests or restrictions, My Lord?”

“No more or less than we discussed earlier, Draco. Go ahead. Have your fun.”

Draco smiled, wickedly. “Thank you, My Lord.” He then looked back at Hermione who was now standing and starting to limp towards her parents. “No. You stay there.” Hermione stopped, aggravation and tears on her face. He then looked at Lucius. “Father, don’t interfere.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Draco. You’ve outdone yourself.” Lucius responded with a fake show of pride on his face. Underneath the façade was growing concern for his girl. She was clearly in pain and small patches of blood were beginning to leak through her dress. He noticed the worst spot was on her abdomen and her dress had a tear where she had had to pull it to get it out from under the heavy sculpture. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t fallen on her head and killed her.

Draco smirked in response and silence descended over the room as he sauntered towards the Muggle couple. His voice was polite, as though he were making introductions at a social gathering. “First off, please. Introductions are in order.”

He gestured towards Voldemort. “The esteemed and powerful wizard you see to your right is the Dark Lord. Consider yourselves honored to be in his presence. My name is Draco Malfoy,” he said with a slight bow of his head, “and that man that resembles me is my father, Lucius Malfoy. To his right is my Godfather and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus Snape. The lovely woman you see next to our Lord is my Aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband, Rodolphus is…” he peered about the room. “Ahh, there he is.” He laughed before sharing conversationally, “Forgive him. He’s just acquired a new Mudblood and he simply can’t keep his cock out of her.

“Uncle, I know Lizzie is a treat, but please…join in the fun, won’t you?”

There was scattered laughter and cat calls about the room as Rodolphus grunted, “Almost finished here.”

Lucius looked up at the dais to see the Dark Lord was laughing and looking quite pleased with the performance.

“The other faces you see are more Death Eaters and recruits who wish to be of service to his Lordship.” He let out a breath. “Whew. Oh, and just so you understand. Your daughter is bonded to myself as well as my father, which means she has to do what we say, when we say – at all times.”

He looked back towards Hermione. “Meow like the pretty little pussy you are, Mudblood.” Hermione began to mewl like a cat.

When her father growled, “You bastard!” and started to lunge toward Draco, the young Malfoy was ready for it. “ _Crucio.”_ Hermione’s mewls became drowned out by the sound of her father’s screams.

Jane Granger fell to her knees, crying for her husband who was writhing on the floor before her. Draco lifted the hex to the sound of laughter and yells of ‘encore’ from the crowd.

Lucius only had eyes for Hermione and kept his attention on her. She was bawling as cat-like sounds choked out of her mouth. He felt sick – the scene before him was obscene – and he was ashamed. He had been cruel like Draco, at one time. He had never brutalized women, but he had certainly raped them and tormented them for sport. It had been many years since he had found enjoyment in such behavior, though.

Draco beckoned Hermione over and ordered her to cease with the cat sounds causing Bellatrix to stop laughing and let out a disappointed sigh.

“So, where were we? Oh yes. Now that you know who we are, lets learn who you are.” He smiled heartlessly at Hermione as she hobbled over. “Why don’t you introduce your parents.”

Hermione’s voice was raw and sounded strained. “Everyone, these are my parents, David and Jane Granger.”

There were mocking and teasing greetings from about the room.

“Delighted.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Your daughter has great tits.”

Draco chuckled. “Yes, she certainly does.” He looked up at David. “But then again, you probably know that, don’t you?” The room grew silent. “Hmm? How about it? Have you seen your daughter’s tits before?”

David was now standing, his face full of loathing. “Of course not! She’s my daughter!”

Draco lazily scanned up and down Jane Granger. “Does her mother have nice tits?” He smiled conspiratorially at David, “Come now, you can tell me.”

Lucius could see where this was going but, for the life of him, he could do nothing to make it stop.

“What? You won’t tell me?” Draco pouted. He looked about the room. “Well, is anyone else curious?”

There were claps and whistles and various responses.

“I am.”

“Let’s see ‘em.”

“They look kind of small.”

Draco scanned the now large crowd. It seemed many had been summoned to the fun. “Ahh, Macnair. You want to do the honors?”

“My pleasure,” his gruff voice responded as the sound of his heavy boots approached from the back of the room.

Draco looked back at Jane’s horrified face. “Tell me, are there limits to what you would do to save your daughter’s life?”

Jane swallowed heavily, her eyes on Hermione. Her voice was strong, and Lucius saw a great deal of Hermione in her defiant expression and tone. “There is _nothing_ I wouldn’t do for her.” She began to speak to her daughter directly. “Hermione, I love you. Whatever happens. Know that!”

As Macnair came up behind Jane and pulled her away from the clutches of her husband, Hermione cried harder. “I’m so sorry Mummy. I’m sorry!”

When David charged after Macnair, another whispered “ _Crucio”_ had the man writhing on the floor once again. The focus of the room seemed to shift from the father on the floor to the mother having her clothes torn from her body. When the curse was ended, and David Granger lay whimpering and panting on the floor, Hermione did the only thing she could. She begged. She turned to Draco with imploring eyes and desperate words. “Please, sir. Please, I’ll do anything. _ANYTHING!_ Please! Just don’t hurt them. They are innocent.”

Draco turned on her, fury in his eyes. “Innocent? _Innocent_ , you say?” He looked back at the now topless woman whose breasts were being fondled by the large, ape like hands of Macnair. Glancing down at the defeated man on the floor, he shook his head in disgust. “They are not innocent. They created _you!_ You are an abomination; you are worth nothing more than the warm cunt between your thighs.”

Draco looked back at the brute Death Eater towering over Hermione’s mother. “Have a go if you want.”

Macnair grinned. “Well, since you offered.”

Draco then looked at his Father. “Father? Forgive me. I should have given her to you first.”

Lucius looked from Draco to Hermione. “While I appreciate the offer, I have no desire to sully my cock on a Muggle. It is bad enough we have to dirty ourselves with that.” Lucius died just a little on the inside when he saw more light go out of the girl’s eyes. He hadn’t meant it. She had to know that!

Draco laughed. “I see your point, Father. Still, there are many here whom I doubt hold themselves to your standards.”

When Lucius looked back at Macnair, it was to find him buried balls deep in Jane Granger, her mouth gagged with cloth as he bent her over a side table. A crowd was forming around the assault. Draco pulled Hermione over to her mother. “Don’t look away, Mudblood. This is your doing. You caused this. You fought the bond. You fought me.”

He stepped closer to Hermione’s mother, bending down and whispering into her ear as her body jolted with each brutal thrust of her rapist. “This is your daughters doing. You would still be working on that little ocean front cottage if she hadn’t forced me to come looking for you.” He smirked cruelly as the woman made pained noises and grunts with each intrusion of Macnair’s cock. “Oh, look Mudblood – mummy’s crying.” He gathered Jane’s tears on the tip of a finger before turning to Hermione’s and rubbing his fingers together to spread the liquid. “I do so love it when they cry, you know.”

Draco smirked as Hermione’s tears fell faster down her cheeks before he looked about the faces of the voyeurs. “Have a turn, each of you. We’re running low on time, though. Best you become creative.”

Draco pulled Hermione away from the ensuing gang-bang of her mother and led her back to David who was trying to stand. When Draco released her arm, she stumbled to her father and had just wrapped her arms around him, when Draco ordered her away again.

Her eyes were imploring as she saw the tears stream down her father’s face. He had no choice but to stand by as his wife was being triple penetrated not ten feet away. Hermione began to sob hysterically. “Daddy, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

Lucius was impressed as David Granger immediately stopped his tears and wiped his face with his sleeve. He never took his eyes off his daughter. “You listen to me young lady, this is _not_ your fault. You are my brilliant and beautiful little girl. And I love you always…no matter what! Whatever happens here – remember that!” The words caused Hermione to double over in her grief and terror, clutching her stomach as she choked on sobs.

“How droll.” Draco carelessly flipped a hand at a few younger recruits. “Why don’t you gentlemen teach him to hold his tongue? No one wants to hear that sappy nonsense spouting from his mouth. Being that he’s a Muggle – perhaps use Muggle methods, so he’ll understand what’s happening, you know.”

Hermione shrieked and tried to put herself between her father and the four young men who were approaching David. She was unable to move because of Draco’s commands. “Please stop!” she begged when one hopeful Death Eater locked David in a full Nelson from behind while another landed a hard blow to the man’s gut.

Lucius had to enforce his Occlumency shield even more as his son ordered Hermione to watch her parents closely as they were tormented, so she would learn her lesson. Her pallor grew more and more white with each blow her father took and each screech of pain that emanated from her mother. He saw when her legs gave out and she dropped into a tall kneel while she begged Draco to stop their torment and promised she would never defy him again. She apologized over and over again between broken screams and gasp of air.

It was minutes that felt like hours before Voldemort spoke. “Enough! I’ve grown bored, Draco. I think you’ve had plenty of fun for one evening. I would suffice it to say that Miss Granger has learned her lesson.”

For the first time ever, Hermione was grateful for the Dark Lord. Her words came out muffled and choked and interrupted by hiccoughs. “Yes. Yes, sir. I pro –” _hic_ “promise I won’t ever resist ag –” _hic_ “again. I’ve learned my lesson.” She was trembling. (Had she stopped trembling for even a moment since Draco appeared this evening?) Had there been anything left in her stomach, it would have made a reappearance by now.

Voldemort stood. “We shall see, we shall see. Leave. All of you.” He turned to Bellatrix. “Except for you my pet.”

The assault on Jane Granger instantly stopped, and the men who were beating David dropped him to the ground. As the Death Eaters and recruits adjusted their clothing and refastened their zippers and buttons, Draco ordered, “Get your mother, Mudblood.” Draco ordered.

Hermione rushed to her mother only to find her covered in secretions and sweat. Her eyes were closed, and her naked body shivered as her teeth chattered. Hermione couldn’t help the fresh rush of tears. “Mum, you need to stand. It’s over. Come on, mummy.” Jane moaned and winced as she struggled to right herself. David painfully pulled himself to stand and moved to his wife’s other side, helping her up along with Hermione. Lucius and Severus moved to lead the way and Draco followed with his exhausted and traumatized Muggle captives and Hermione in tow.

“Oh, Hermione.” The group froze at the sound of Voldemort’s voice from behind them. I meant what I said. It would be a pity for you to lose both your parents. Behave!”

They had just started to walk again, believing him finished speaking when the curse came _. “Avada Kedavra!”_ The sound of the body hitting the floor was followed by a scream of anguish that shook Lucius to the core. His eyes flashed from his witch to Severus in stunned surprise when her collar arched out flashes of bright-white light and pulses of energy that caused his hair to blow. It was magnificent and heartbreaking at the same time. He swallowed, battling disappointment and relief when the collar finally overcame her magic. He looked away, reinforcing his Occlumency shields, when Hermione collapsed to her knees, sobbing… Broken.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author’s Note:** Okay. We realize that we lost quite a few readers after the last chapter. You know what? It’s okay. When we started this piece over a year ago, we knew it was not going to be for everyone. We want to take a few minutes to discuss the story with you all.
> 
> We had a lot of people say they felt that the last chapter needed specific trigger warnings. What we’re going to say here and now is that no – we will not be writing additional trigger warnings. The very beginning of this fic tells you that it’s dark. It is a war story where the bad guys win. Violence. Gore. Rape. Torture. Character death.
> 
> When you buy a book off the shelf at the book store – there are no trigger warnings. If you would be bothered with the topics that are in our blanket warning at the beginning of this book, please don’t read it. Please. Now that we have done what we said we wouldn’t do and repeated the warnings here, we will add that they will continue to be relevant through the end of this story.
> 
> THAT being said – while we don’t like to give away plot – we are comfortable telling you all this: Now that our character development has been well established (except for Draco’s), the relationship between Luc and Hermione well underway, and Snape’s point of the story starting to come to light, we are getting to the meat and potatoes of this thing and the plot will start to develop a little more quickly for the rest of the tale.
> 
> We are more than halfway through. Right now, it’s outlined to Chapter 38 plus an Epilogue. Not saying that it won’t be a few chapters longer (we tend to have to split chapters occasionally because they get away from us), but it’s completely outlined. Because everything is starting to come to a head, there will be a lot more PLOT and a lot LESS descriptive violence to come. Not that there won’t be ANY descriptive violence, but there will be less the back half of the story. We are already starting to tone down Draco’s abuse sessions (such as the rape at the beginning of chapter 19). They will be glossed over more often then not.
> 
> Finally, we totally understand if you need to bow out. Everyone has their limits and we can understand that this story will not excite all of you. No hard feelings. 
> 
> Peace and love,   
> Lissa & Snow

Lucius knew she was in shock. Outside of the horrified scream of pure anguish that would haunt him until the day he died, she had made no sound since it had happened.

They had returned to the Manor with Snape and her parents in tow. Draco had left Lucius and Snape with only a brief explanation that he would ready a dungeon cell for a long-term stay. Lucius had called on Bilby and had given his own instructions, however. Those instructions had included warming charms, blankets, and three full meals daily. Lucius would check on the prisoner himself every evening.

Lucius had not moved any of the Grangers from the Apparation foyer; a small antechamber to the main floo foyer where friends and family could directly Apparate in and out of the manor. It was a plain room in comparison with the grandeur of the rest of the Manor. Four walls done in slate blue, hardwood floors, a couple of chairs and a large cloak rack. There were no portraits.

Hermione stared unseeing at Jane and David Granger, both on the floor. One was weeping terribly for the other and the sobs reverberated through the small room. Lucius wanted nothing more than to pull Hermione into his arms, so he could tell her how sorry he was. That the loss of a parent was terrible. That the cruelness in which the loss had occurred was uncalled for. He knew she had felt they were safe. She had thought that it could have been so much worse, would likely be horrific in the days to come, but at least their deaths would not be tonight. She should have had time to speak with them; she should have had time to hold them to her – and her to them.

Now one was gone forever, and it was his son’s fault.

 _Will she ever be able to look at me the same again?_ The words flashed through Lucius’ mind and caused his stomach to ache at the unwelcomed thought.

“I should take the body,” Snape said quietly after several moments. “Where should I put it?”

“Not ‘it.’” It was the first time Hermione had spoken in almost twenty minutes. Her voice shook. “Him. That’s my _father_ , Professor. Not an ‘it.’”

Jane Granger’s sobs grew louder, and Lucius watched her clutch at the traveling cloak Snape had thrown around her nakedness.

“The Muggle’s cell is ready.” Draco reentered the room with the snide declaration. “I’ll take it down.”

Lucius closed his eyes, steadying himself when Draco’s words and reappearance caused Hermione to finally breakdown. She threw herself at her mother, sobbing hysterically, and the women clutched at each other with their heads resting together as they cried. He saw the evil glint in Draco’s eyes and knew there was nothing he could do to prevent what was about to happen, but he swore to himself that he would make it up to her as soon as he could.

“Come, mummy Granger. Time for you to learn your place.” Lucius watched silently and with a guarded expression as Draco marched haughtily to the woman who looked so much like his little witch and grabbed her under her elbow roughly. “Come, filth.”

“Malfoy,” Hermione gasped, trying to keep her mother clenched in her arms as Draco attempted to rip the two women apart. Jane was utterly defeated, sobbing incoherently through the trauma that had been the evening. She had one hand wrapped around her daughter’s wrist whilst trying to lay over her dead husband even as Draco tugged none-too-gently on her arm. “Sir, please give us just a few moments.”

The plea nearly broke Lucius’ heart and he watched out of the corner of his eye as Snape turned abruptly on his heel and stalked out of the room.

“Request denied,” Draco sneered. A grin crossed his face when this caused Hermione to break down all over again. “Up you go, Mummy-Mudblood.”

“Hermione?” Jane asked brokenly.

“Mum, it’s okay,” Hermione gasped through her own tears. “I promise I’ll come see you as soon as I can. It’s going to be okay.”

That she was trying to comfort her mother while her father lay dead on the floor, not even cold yet, shattered Lucius completely. He couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Draco, you are dismissed,” he ordered coolly.

Draco’s head whipped to face him, his jaw going slack. “Excuse me?” he finally was able to utter after a solid three seconds of silence.

“You are dismissed,” Lucius repeated even though he knew he had been heard perfectly the first time. “I will take care of the rest this evening. You have more than outdone yourself – I am beyond proud of you. You should find your rest, you’ve been away from your own bed too long.”

Draco’s furious surprise turned into contemplation and then he smirked. “That actually sounds wonderful, father. Thank you.” He returned his attention to Hermione and Lucius had to grind his teeth at the next words that fell from his son’s lips. “Up, Mudblood. You’ll come with me tonight.”

“Yes, si –” Lucius cut off her instant, dejected reply.

“She needs to be healed, her leg could be fractured. She’s oozing blood. I know how much you enjoy causing her to bleed, Draco, but you shouldn’t allow that filth to touch your skin. I will have her cleaned and healed and you can start with your canvas fresh in the morning.” The words were said slowly and steadily, conveying no emotion. Not for the first time in his life did Lucius feel grateful for his sharp mind and silver tongue.

Hermione had flinched at the sound of his voice, but he could spare her no mind until he got his evil son out of there. He would hurt her if it meant protecting her and he wouldn’t feel guilty about it. When she had time to process, she would understand what he had done. He couldn’t worry about what was running through her mind now.

Draco was staring at him intently as though he could see right through to his thoughts. It bothered him, even though he knew his Occlumency shields were firmly in place. Finally, his son looked away. “You’re right, father,” he said simply. “I’m exhausted. It’ll be so much more fun to play when I’ve had good rest.” He turned back to Hermione who was no longer crying. She held her still upset mother in her arms again while staring blankly at her father’s body. Lucius clenched the head of his cane when Draco ordered, “You will come to me after you fuck my father tomorrow morning, Mudblood. Be prepared for a long day.”

Her monotonous answer was pitiful. “Yes, sir.” Then Draco was gone.

He waited two full minutes to make sure the boy had truly retired. Quietly, Lucius muttered, “Bilby, Tinny, Janky.” The three elves popped up, startling Jane and causing Snape to return to the foyer looking icily composed. “Janky, please take Mr. Granger’s remains and prepare him for burial.”

Jane gave a nonverbal protest, but Hermione shushed the woman gently and ran her fingers through her mother’s hair soothingly. “It’s okay, mum. Mr. Malfoy will make sure they treat him right.”

A warmth that he could not explain filled him fully at the girl’s quiet assurance and he had to clear his throat before giving the next directives. “Tinny, ready a bath for Miss Granger in the Mistress suite and prepare her night things.” Tinny left with a loud pop immediately as Hermione carefully extracted her mother’s grip from her father’s hand. With a discreet look at Lucius, Janky touched David Granger on the shoulder and the two were gone with the same noise.

He chanced a look at Snape, who he found to be watching Hermione intently. The Headmaster’s face was blank, but his eyes held a subtle concern. When Lucius returned his attention to Hermione, it was to find silent tears streaming down her cheeks as she hugged Jane close. Her cheek was pressed into Jane’s hair as daughter comforted mother.

She saw him looking at her and answered simply. “He was my father,” her voice was hoarse, “but they’ve been together almost forty years – since they were teenagers. I was born late in their lives,” she continued to explain. “They didn’t think they could have children, you see. My mother was forty when I was born.”

Lucius was shocked, that would have to make Jane Granger almost sixty years old – she didn’t look a day over fifty. Hermione continued speaking softly. “It’s going to be okay, Mummy. I’ll be good – I won’t give them reason to hurt you again. I swear it.”

Snape made a low, disgruntled sound and left the room again. Lucius found he wanted to join the man, so he could give the women some privacy. He knew he had to press forward, however, he was concerned that Draco may come back to see what was going on.

“Bilby,” he said softly. Hermione’s eyes locked to his and he saw her grip on her mother tighten. She was a smart girl, and she knew what was coming. Hoping beyond hope that neither Draco nor Snape would come back, he moved to the women and knelt before them. “I am sorry, Hermione. She must go. I will make sure she is well cared for.”

Her eyes bore into his as her lips trembled, and a fresh splash of silent tears spilled over her lower lashes. Lucius reached out slowly and brushed the moisture from one cheek with his thumb. A part of him – his heart? – jumped when she leaned into his touch. He had been so sure she’d push him away.

Hermione seemed to take strength from his caress and she carefully moved her hands to Jane’s shoulders and pushed so she could find her mother’s eyes. “Mum, Bilby is going to take you to your…room?” She gave Lucius a questioning glance and he shook his head apologetically. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Okay,” she continued. “I’m not going to lie, Mummy; we’re in danger. You’ll be going to a cell. Just do what’s asked and you’ll be okay. I swear I won’t let them hurt you, okay Mummy?”

Jane was staring at her daughter, somewhat dumbfounded. Suddenly, a fire lit in her dark eyes. “What am I doing? Sobbing all over you when you just lost your father.” Much to Lucius’ shock…and then amusement…Jane straightened her shoulders which caused Hermione’s hands to fall. Mother grasped daughter’s face. “I will be fine; don’t you worry for me. You take care of you and we’ll figure a way out of all this.”

Hermione’s face crumpled, and great big gasping sobs heaved from her. This caused Lucius to reach out reflexively and grasp her hand. Hermione returned his comfort by squeezing his hand tightly as two sets of large doe eyes turned to him. One filled with anguish, the other with a dawning light of understanding.

“You will care for her?” Jane asked, studying him contemplatively as her daughter collapsed against his chest, still sobbing. Mrs. Granger’s look unnerved him and, despite her role as captive and his as captor, he found himself nodding as he wrapped an arm protectively around the girl.

“And you,” he promised.

“Just her. I can fend for myself.”

Lucius wanted to laugh. Then he wanted to cry. He settled for a grimace. “Madam, I am the Master of this house. We are at war, however. I will do what I can – for you both. Bilby will take you now, he will keep you comfortable. If you need anything, just say his name.”

With one last fierce hug for her daughter, Jane Granger and the elf were gone with a pop.

“Come, Miss Granger,” Lucius said while grasping both her elbows and pulling the girl to stand. She hissed painfully as she put weight on her injured leg and he could see fresh blood stains across the bodice of her gown. “Why are you bleeding? What happened?” He tried to catch her eyes, but she pointedly looked at the ground. He hated the defeated slump to her shoulders, despised the tears he could see dripping off her chin.

She pulled her arms away from him and hugged herself tightly. “Slicing hexes,” she answered brokenly.

“Severus,” Lucius called out. “Help me take her to her suite.”

Snape reentered the room for the second time looking perfectly composed. “One of your elves asked me if I needed anything. I told him to take the required potions and pastes to Miss Granger’s room. I also have some Muggle pain medicines and sedatives. Should you require them, send an elf to Hogwarts. Do you think your leg is fractured?” He directed the question to Hermione, who shrugged noncommittally. “You shouldn’t walk, then.” “I’ll Apparate her to her room,” Lucius offered. Snape nodded and all three were standing in the middle of the Mistress Suite less than two seconds later.

Lucius found himself completely enraged when, upon doing a quick inspection of the portraits in the room, he spotted Abraxas leering from over one book shelf. _Fucking hell! I can’t give this poor girl a break tonight._ He pressed his lips into a hard line and pointedly looked at Snape.

The Headmaster caught on quickly and glared around the room. Abraxas and Ediva and one other obscure portrait were in the room. Ediva was the least discreet of the portraits about her opinions of Hermione. Abraxas watched and leered and reported to the Dark Lord, but Lucius’ great-grandmother was the epitome of a cold-hearted bigot bitch and her look of disgust had become a permanent expression since Hermione’s takeover of the Lady’s Parlor.

Tinny was readying Hermione’s things in the bathroom where no portraits were. Silently, the dark man jerked his head and Lucius nodded. The only way for them to talk freely would be to take her into the en suite.

The moment they closed the door behind them, Snape cast a silencing charm and ordered Tinny away. The moment the muttered “Muffliato” was spoken, Hermione seemed to throw all caution to the wind and threw her arms around Lucius’ waist before burying her face in his chest and starting to sob yet again.

He froze, his gaze rising and clashing harshly with the startled face of his friend. He was half terrified that she was dooming them both, while the other half was so utterly relieved that she was seeking comfort from him that he wrapped his arms around her and dropped a cheek to the top of her head. She needed him; she wanted his comfort. How was he supposed to deny her after all she had endured – not only tonight, but in the last several weeks?

Her tears and shudders seemed to escalate the moment his embrace tightened around her and it caused Lucius’ heart to stutter in his chest. He raised his head to find Snape studying the floor instead of watching them. The look of discomfort on his face almost made Lucius laugh. When their eyes met again, Snape spoke.

“You are fine,” he said calmly. “I fear you and I are in the same sinking ship, Lucius. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for Miss Weasley as well.”

There.

There it was.

The trust they needed to establish was finally being laid out before them both.

Snape cared about Ginny.

Lucius cared about Hermione.

They both knew each other’s secret.

They would both keep the other’s secret.

Lucius gave a curt nod before gently pushing Hermione away from him. “Cry and grieve as much as you need to, Miss Granger,” he said gently, “but please tell me why you are bleeding all over your gown.”


End file.
